


One, then the other

by KeyWolf25888



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:02:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21660514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeyWolf25888/pseuds/KeyWolf25888
Summary: In this universe, the identities of superheroes remain secret from the public. Captain America and The Winter Soldier don't get along at all...And yet Steve finds himself growing fond of his mysterious neighbour, Bucky.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 19
Kudos: 115
Collections: Stucky Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What's up dudes - this is a fic i've been working on for a while for the stuckybb :) it may or may not have art coming for it, i honestly don't know - all i do know i that i'm too impatient to put off posting it any longer, so here you go :)

Stretching out his fingers, Steve dropped the pen. After a while his fingers always started to cramp around the stylus, no matter how many finger exercises he did. It was one part of this job that he hated - that no matter how hard he tried, there was always some ache or another that he couldn't shake.

At least his back wouldn't hurt (too badly) this time - those stretches he'd tried out last night seemed to be counteracting the effects of spending most of your day hunched over a tablet.

Across the way he could see Sharon talking to a client - it didn't look like she was far from telling them to stick their terrible idea up their assets. Then again, that was the state that most of them lived in while at work. He just had to hope that she could stand to hold in her anger for a little longer - Fury would have her head on a platter if it happened again.

A hand landed on his shoulder. "How are you doing, Steve?"

He turned around, smiling. "I'm getting there, Pegs. The clients this time actually didn't have half bad ideas." He gestured to his screen, where a half-finished logo sat. He couldn’t quite remember off the top of his head quite was the company was for - but that didn't matter right now; he had a page of notes they'd given him, and that was good enough to get him through the initial stages at least.

Peggy smiled down at him. "Cool. I think Fury was looking for you? Something about a client saying you added something to a design?"

Steve groaned. "Sure, okay. Thanks." He knew exactly what Peggy was referring to, even if she didn't - and he wasn't happy that he was going to have to leave this work to go deal with it.

Peggy looked concerned. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Nodding, Steve said, "yeah, it's all fine, don't worry about it." No doubt she would still worry about him, but there was little he could do about that.

She walked away, and Steve took a moment to rub his eyes. The day was wearing on him – it was the end of the week, and there had been a lot going on. He couldn’t wait to be finished up here – but apparently he needed to suffer through meetings with his boss first.

Putting his computer to sleep, he stood up, feeling his legs appreciate no longer being cramped under his desk.

The rest of the office didn’t even look up as he stood – most of them seemed about as tired and bored as he was. It probably wasn’t the best thing for overall office morale that none of them were particularly enthused about their jobs, but then, they were really never were.

Thankfully, the meeting didn’t take very long. Fury always seemed to want to antagonize him – even though Steve knew exactly what he was doing, Fury liked to act as though he was incompetent. It sometimes got on his nerves – but there was nothing he could do about that. Fury was just like that, no matter how hard he tried.

By the time he got back to his desk, it had been about half an hour and a lot of his co-workers had disappeared.

He checked the time.

Oh, thank fuck it was time for lunch. He’d been feeling his stomach grumble for a while now – he tended to get very hungry at around lunchtime. (Plus it was his main time to get away from work – if he couldn’t milk it for all the time he was allowed to not have to think about the damn bland ideas of his clients, then he wasn’t doing it right.)

He sometimes ate lunch with Peggy, or Sharon, or both. They usually made fun of him for eating so much – but then, perhaps that was his fault for eating with cousins who knew how to tag team about it.

Today, though, he was going to stick to eating by himself. If nothing else, Peggy and Sharon were already gone, nothing he could do about it. Fury had eaten into some of his lunch time, but he would still have plenty of time left to eat.

Nothing like eating by yourself to make yourself feel cool.

**

Steve felt his phone buzz, and groaned. He'd been trying to nap - work had left him so exhausted that he just couldn't bear to stay awake for the whole evening. Sleep was just as important as his work - even more so, if you considered that he wouldn't be able to work if he didn't sleep. In fact -

His phone buzzed again, pulling his sleep-addled brain out of the thought spiral he'd been in.

Reaching out a hand, he pulled it out of his jeans pocket. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to nap with his phone still on him? Oh, right, he hadn't planned on it, it had just sort of happened.

His phone screen was bright against the darkness of his apartment. Squinting at it, he ignored his notifications in favor of turning the brightness down - a disadvantage of having slept while it was still light out.

Once he wasn't going to go blind from looking at the screen, he allowed himself to check his messages.

Nat [20.02]

You're coming tonight right?

Nat [20.04]

We're literally all waiting for you - if you don't turn up soon, we'll have to start without you.

Steve sat bolt upright.

"Shit," he muttered to himself. "Shit, shit-"

He threw his blanket off (trying to ignore the way that it tangled around his legs like it was trying to trip him up).

Where was his - there it was.

The suit was garish, he knew, but it did its job. The stripes had been a little much, he'd thought the first time he considered making it like that, but with the public dubbing him 'Captain America' he had thought that incorporating the flag into his suit would be appropriate.

His fingers fumbled a little as he struggled to get his regular clothes off (he'd accidentally worn jeans under the suit one time and he'd sworn to never do it again. So much chafing...) but after a minute he was left in the softer undergarments that protected his skin from unnecessary harm.

He left his mask off for now as he made his way down the fire escape to the street. It didn’t hurt his vision that much, but it was usually still for the best that he didn’t put it on just yet (even for him he sometimes managed to trip down the stairs anyway).

At the bottom of the stairs, his motorcycle stood, wrapped up to protect it. (He tried to not use it too often – it was used almost exclusively for his Captain America time.) Pulling out the helmet out of the back, he pulled it on his head – the other reason why he didn’t want to have his mask on just yet, it would never be comfortable.

Sometimes he wondered at the sense of riding a death trap as his main mode of transport to meet up with the other Avengers. There had been little other option he had come up with though – what else was he meant to do, ride the subway?

Kicking the engine into life, he felt its rumble and knew that things were about to get serious.

Well, as serious as a meeting with the other Avengers could get.

The journey didn't actually take very long - even with him following all of the traffic laws, something which Nat always found hilarious. It wasn't a particularly exciting journey either - just a place in upstate New York, away from the main city so that they could keep the place a secret. Honestly Steve was pretty sure that a few of the members had complained when they first decided that their place should be so far out from the city, but Steve - and Nat - had been insistent that they needed to not be able to be stumbled upon. But since most of them had no abilities to fly, or use any kind of magic (that had mostly been directed at Scarlet Witch) they'd had to choose somewhere firmly on earth.

By now Steve had taken the journey enough times to practically do it blindfolded. They didn't meet every week - that would be far too often for everyone to make it to - but it was usually once a month, just for checking up on everyone. As the night sped past him, Steve wondered whether he could have just skipped out on this one. Just said, 'no, I’m too tired, you guys go on without me.' Nat knew enough about the rest of his life that he probably could have gotten away without coming.

Reaching the compound, he parked the bike up next to the building. It was dark outside - if he hadn't known better, he would have thought that the place was empty.

Pulling the helmet off his head, and storing it under the seat, he stretched out a little from where he’d been hunched over. His instinct was to sort his hair – but there was no point in doing that, as uncomfortable as it felt. There was one thing left to do before he went in there. His mask needed putting on, and he did just that. Sometimes he thought it was a shame that he needed to hide his identity around these people – but he knew the importance of all of them mostly telling no-one their secret identities.

The front door was locked, useless, a decoy. They'd designed it that way on purpose - mostly to deter anyone who might idly try to get in. The main defense mechanisms on the place would take care of any actual trespassers, of course, but they didn't want to do any damage to anyone harmlessly seeking shelter.

Despite being all part of its grand design, it sometimes irritated Steve that they had to go round to the actual main entrance to get inside.

Knowing that he was running late (getting on for half an hour now - that really wasn't good) Steve jogged round, into the trees where the trapdoor lay. It was by memory alone that he found it every time - his night vision was enhanced, but not by that much.

Swinging it open, immediately the sound of voices arguing came at him like a wall of sound. Bypassing the steps and swinging himself into the corridor, he pulled the door shut and walked briskly along to the main meeting hall. The lights gradually got brighter as he got closer to it - one of the things that Iron Man had suggested they add to the design when he'd been designing the rest of it. (At first Steve hadn't thought it was necessary, but he had to admit the more he saw its purpose in action the more he agreed that it was necessary.)

Turning the corner, the lights bright and artificial now, Steve immediately saw the rest of the Avengers, stood in a loose circle around their table.

That was sort of odd - mostly because there were perfectly good chairs right in front of them.

They all fell silent the moment Steve stepped into the room - it actually sort of made it awkward, as though Steve really had that sort of authority.

"What's going on?" He asked, trying not to let his embarrassment show as every eye turned to look at him. "Sorry I’m late."

Natasha looked at him, eyes narrowed. "Glad you could make it." It was unclear whether or not she meant it - it was always difficult to get a read on her.

Steve shuffled in his spot. "Sorry," he said finally. His feet unglued themselves from the floor, and he went to take a seat.

Fortunately the others followed his lead (that could have been awkward if they didn't).

It was now that Steve got a good look at who all was here (he never knew in advance who was going to be there or not, even though they always aimed to have as many people there as they could muster).

There was Iron Man, his suit clanking across the floor. Nat glided along to a seat, and Scarlet Witch floated to one (he was always sure that she just did that to show off). Quicksilver had got to one before Steve's ass even hit the seat, his speed used for inane things as per usual. The Hulk's mass was absent (he didn't usually show up for these meetings - something about not wanting to show his human counterpart, but the hulk not being stable enough to talk to normally. He could be counted on to show up for the big fights though, and that was what mattered).

There was one more figure in the room right now - and one which Steve was slightly less familiar with. The Winter Soldier, his eyes glaring at them past his face mask, sat down on the sear next to Nat, placing a gun down on the table. Usually they didn't allow weapons in the meeting room (Iron Man's suit aside) but none of them had ever been able to pluck up the courage to tell the man that he couldn't do that. Unless Nat had already tried and been ignored. that was entirely possible.

"So how is everyone this week?" Steve tried once they were all settled.

He got a few blank stares back for his effort. "I’m good," said Nat, ever the conversationalist.

Steve nodded. "Good, good," he said. He liked to act as though it wasn't weird that for the most part they knew nothing about one another. Sometimes it really got on his nerves - it just wasn't in his nature.

"Let's get down to business," Iron Man said, leaning his iron arms on the table, the metal screeching on metal. He was the other de facto leader of their group. At least, he was to the extent that the man seemed unable to relinquish any kind of leadership, and Steve had always found it difficult to be a leader outside times of direct strategisation. "Anything to report?"

"Well we've got a possible corruption case," Quicksilver said, beginning to buzz with excitement. "Me and - and Scarlet Witch are looking forward to taking them down, if any of you want to join us?" He looked around the room excitedly.

Nobody said anything for a few seconds. Quicksilver's enthusiasm was more adorable than catching, and Steve wasn't sure whether anybody would be interested -

"What kind of corruption?" The Winter Soldier's voice was dark, rumbly. It was clearly put on, a guise for his voice - and yet it worked perfectly to make him threatening, even to his allies.

Quicksilver grinned. "Oh, you know, the normal - bribery, embezzlement, that sort of thing. We knew for months that there was something fishy going on, but it was only last month that Scarlet Witch managed to crack into their defences and get us some solid evidence."

Beside him, Scarlet Witch smiled softly. Part of Steve was always surprised that she was the type to come along to these meetings - unlike her brother, she didn't seem too interested in the content of them. He couldn't deny that she was powerful though - he wouldn't want to get on her bad side, not when he'd seen the kind of havoc she could wreak on the battlefield.

The Winter Soldier seemed to contemplate this for a minute. It was difficult to tell his emotions, mostly because the lower half of his face was obscured by his domino mask, but eventually he nodded. "I'm in. When and where?"

Steve blinked, surprised. The Winter Soldier had only been a part of their team for a few weeks now, a very very new addition, and Steve had never gotten the feeling that he was interested in anything that didn't require blowing things up.

Quicksilver rattled off an address and a time. Mentally Steve tallied up whether he could make it to there from his work - if he asked to cut out early to get things finished up at home, then maybe...

"Are you sure you want to be part of something like that, soldier?" Steve couldn't help but ask.

The Winter Soldier turned to look at him. His eyes seemed to pierce right through him, seeing all that he wished to keep secret from the team.

"Yes." That was all the response Steve got - and he found irritation welling up inside him.

The two began to discuss their strategy more, something to do with deciding on the best plan of attack. The frustration still inside him at seeing the soldier acting as though he wasn't totally fake, Steve could only think of one thing to do.

"I’ll come too," he said.

Quicksilver looked at him, surprised. "Are you sure, Mr Captain sir? You don't normally take part in stuff like this?"

Steve shrugged, trying to pretend like the boy wasn't right. "Yeah, why not?"

The Winter Soldier looked at him again - his expression unreadable. Steve could feel the aggression rolling off him in waves - but that wasn't anything unusual. It was the thing that made Steve dislike him in the first place - his arrogance and slick manner mixed with a total unwillingness to co-operate on anything that he didn’t choose to. Sure, the Avengers weren't a family, or anything like that, but usually there was a level of _cooperation_ involved, exchanges made.

The soldier never partook in any of that.

And so Steve was pulled into the preparations. The others mostly sat silent while they discussed it, Iron Man occasionally piping up with an idea or two about it. Natasha mostly seemed to be bemused by it all, sat back in her chair with her arms folded. That didn’t surprise him all that much – that seemed to be the demeanor she projected the most, and he’d grown used to it.

After this there was a little discussion about other things – mostly Iron Man complaining about things in his personal life while trying to not give away his identity. Steve had never done the sleuthing he could have done with all the details the man had given away accidentally to work out who he was. It wasn’t exactly a secret that he had to be rich, in order to have made his suit. In fact, Steve was pretty sure that Natasha was paranoid enough to have done that work already.

As far as he was concerned though, it would feel dishonest to do that (even if he personally thought that iron man was a bit of an idiot for even letting those details slip though). He would be furious if he found out that one of his teammates had done that to him, and so he would extend the same courtesy to them… even if they were idiots.

Steve sat most of those arguments out. He never saw much reason to get involved in them – not when Iron Man was perfectly capable of carrying them out with himself.

As had happened the past few meetings, Steve found his gaze drawn to the soldier. The man wasn’t animated, exactly… but there was something captivating about him, something that made Steve want to look at him. The way he held himself, the difference between how he acted when he was interacting with them versus when he wasn’t. Being able to keep that still… it bordered on unnatural. Sure, it wasn’t the most unlikely thing to be able to do in their line of work, but the only other person who could hold still like that was Natasha. And she had some very scary reasons for her ability to do that.

The meeting ended up wrapping up a little sooner than Steve had expected.

“Alright guys, I think that’s everything,” Iron Man said, attempting to rub his hands together and instead making an awful, screeching metal-on-metal sound. Everyone else winced – but somehow Iron Man seemed unperturbed, as he most often was.

Quicksilver nodded eagerly. “I’m excited for our heist.” He’d taken to calling his mission a heist, which coming from anyone else Steve might have objected to, but from Quicksilver was almost funny.

Scarlet Witch patted his hand – his twin there to temper his excitement.

Iron Man stood up, leading the others out of the meeting room. At the same time, Steve’s eye caught Natasha’s’. She didn’t have to say anything – she never did, yet somehow Steve always seemed to know what she wanted.

And so, as the others left the building, Steve stayed behind, his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Natasha didn't move either - and he didn't miss the fact that she was directly looking at him the entire time. It wasn't just him that wanted to stay and talk. Whether that was going to be a good thing or not he didn't know.

"So... you ever going to tell me what all that was about?" She asked when the last person had clanged the main door shut.

Steve shook his head. "No, I don't know what you're talking about.

She gave him a discerning look. "I think you do," she replied, standing up and beginning to walk around the table. "I think you know exactly what I mean."

Steve looked up at her, his eyes pleading. "Maybe... but Nat, you know why he bothers me. Why do you insist on bringing him?"

She paused before shrugging. "He's become a friend," she said. "I think you just need to give him a chance."

"Give _him_ a chance?" Steve asked incredulously. "What about him giving _me_ a chance? I tried to befriend him on the first day, and he hasn't said a nice word to me since. I think the problem lies with him, not with me."

He pulled off his mask. ruffling his hair in frustration, he sighed. "Nat, you know I trust your judgement, I really do. But how can you be sure that he can be trusted? I mean, he won't even tell us why he left dc in the first place."

To her credit, Natasha looked a little conflicted. "I - it's not my story to tell," she said finally. "It's something only he can tell you. I wouldn't want to betray him like that."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "You don't think we, as his _teammates_ , deserve at least some explanation? The guy didn't have a great reputation in DC, and you expect us to just accept him without question?"

His words were an echo of the conversation they'd had the first time Nat brought the soldier to a meeting.

Steve (mostly) wasn’t ashamed that he'd been reluctant to accept the soldier onto the team. He was usually welcoming of anyone who wanted to join, but there was something about the soldier that had rubbed him the wrong way right from the start. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he couldn't help it either, no matter what Nat said.

Natasha pulled her own mask off. She didn't wear it half as often as Steve did, relying on the fact that for the most part, if she was this close to someone without her mask on, she was probably about to kill them.

"Yes, I do," she said. "You don't care as much about anyone else's secret identities. Hell, you barely cared at all when we were forced to admit who we were to one another. Why is it only the soldier you have a problem with?"

Steve shrugged stiffly. "I don't know, he just... I don't trust him." That wasn't quiet it, but it was the best way that Steve could think to describe it that wouldn't sound completely stupid to Nat.

Nat patted his shoulder. "Well you'd better find some trust then, because you're going to be running point on that mission you were planning. you've committed to it, you can't back out now."

Steve groaned. "Don't remind me." Just because technically he'd worked out that he could make it didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

They walked out of the base together, splitting up when they reached the edge of the tree line. Steve had never figured out how Nat travelled around - he'd never asked, nor had she ever shown any interest in showing him her transport. It only bugged him a little - Nat was allowed to be as evasive as she liked.

But it still didn't bug him half as much as when the solider did it.

**

Steve yawned. It was still early in the morning, he knew – and yet he couldn’t help but wake at this time, despite how late he’d been up last night. Habit was everything – and most of the time, waking up early served his purposes.

He lay there for a few minutes, soaking up the warmth of his bed. It was nice and all… but there was a restlessness in his bones, a need to go and do something. Almost every morning this happened to him, no matter how hard he tried to stay. Sometimes he wondered whether it had been a part of the serum – but it didn’t matter, not when it meant that he got to use this body.

Jumping out of bed, he got himself ready and dressed in his running clothes. It was always the perfect way to start his day, to get rid of some of that energy running around inside him.

Going out under the morning sun, it was a crisp and cool morning. It was pleasant against his skin as he began to run, warming him up and making him a pleasant temperature.

It was nice – this early in the morning there were few other people around. Mostly it was other runners, just like him – people who wanted to be left alone, for the most part. That was fine by him – if he could get away with not having the peace of his morning disturbed, then everything would be fine.

By the time he headed back to his apartment, the sun had risen significantly and there were a lot more people around. It was later than his runs usually ended – but he usually let himself run for longer on days when he didn’t need to get to work early.

At half eight he found himself walking back up the stairs to his apartment. He wasn’t sure which project he was going to work on by the time he got back up there – but he was sure that he was going to be motivated to do it, after his run.

For a moment Steve was surprised to see piles and piles of boxes on the landing of his floor, as he reached it.

Then he remembered that his neighbors had moved out last week – they hadn’t been close, but Steve had known that they were leaving.

There was no sign of the new neighbor – although their door was ajar, suggesting that they were inside.

Walking on to his own apartment, Steve fished his keys out of his pocket. He would go round and say hi when he wasn’t covered in sweat – he didn’t think that would leave the best of impressions.

Half an hour later found him washed up, clean and ready to be presentable. His hair was a little damp still, but otherwise he thought that he looked alright for polite society.

During the time that he had been getting ready, he had heard the muffled noises coming from down the hall. If he hadn’t seen the boxes, he would have known that they were getting a new neighbor that way (and he rather hoped that the noises wouldn’t go on all day).

The noises got rather louder as soon as he stepped out into the corridor. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was definitely there – and it occurred to Steve as he saw that most of the boxes that had been there when he came up that he should offer to carry them in.

The door to the other apartment was still open slightly, and as he got closer Steve could see movement from within the gap. Well, if they were in, then that was good.

Knocking on the door, Steve tried to not look too much inside the apartment. Instead, he looked at the boxes next to him – they were labelled innocuous things, like ‘kitchen’, and ‘bathroom’. Leaning down, he tried to figure out what the bottom box said – it was at a funny angle, the box on top of it obscuring its label. It started with a W though, and Steve started to run through what the rest of the word could possibly –

“Can I help you?”

Steve tore his gaze away from the boxes. A man was stood in the doorway, leaning against one of the sides. Immediately Steve noticed the fact that he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and gloves. It was currently the middle of summer – not exactly common wear right now.

Still, knowing that he wasn’t exactly anyone to judge others’ fashion choices, Steve simply cleared his throat and smiled. “Hi there,” he said, holding out a hand. “I’m Steve, I’m your neighbor.” He cocked a thumb in the direction of his apartment.

The man seemed to scrutinize him for a moment. His eyes were dark, and oddly familiar, somehow. They almost felt like they were piercing into his soul – and Steve wasn’t sure that he would like what he found.

His impassive expression didn’t clear. If anything he frowned a little more – and that began to unnerve Steve. “Nice to meet you,” the neighbor said, ignoring Steve’s hand.

Removing his arm from the equation, Steve resolved to not give up. “So you’ve just moved in, huh? If you need any help, just let me know.” For now he ignored the fact that the other man was pretty much just as jacked as he was – other well-built men were just as capable of needing help as anyone else.

The other man crossed his arms. The act of tucking his hands under his biceps only made them look bigger. Clearly it was an act meant to say ‘are you kidding?’… but the only affect it had on Steve was making him want to look at them for several more hours. And then maybe the rest of his body too.

Blinking, and wondering where those thoughts had come from, he gave the man an uncertain smile. “Right… well, if you need any help, let me know.”

He turned to leave. The other man had barely said a word the whole conversation, and Steve honestly wasn’t sure whether it had gone badly or just plain weirdly.

There was no noise from behind him – and then the sound of scuffling reached him.

Instinctively, he flinched.

Turning around, he saw the man stood further out into the corridor, one foot still inside the apartment, looking at him.

It was almost creepy, his intense stare and long-ish hair making him seem almost deranged.

Probably best not to tangle with this guy.

(Just because he would be capable of handling himself didn’t mean that he wanted to have to use his strength on a civilian, for any reason.)

Hoping that the guy would be able to get everything moved by the end of the day, Steve went back into his apartment. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to see any more of the guy.

Even if he was sort of attractive.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve sighed.

Why was it so difficult to find anything that he wanted to know about the soldier?

Well, okay, he knew that it was because the man made sure to never let anyone know anything about him, but it went much further than anything any of the rest of them did for the public. Even if they weren’t about to let anyone know anything about their real identities, they were still willing to allow the papers to report on their activities, when things got done. Even Natasha, the most private person he knew, let things go the way they wanted to report it.

For the soldier, though? Steve looked despondently at the dearth of information about the man on google. Pretty much everything was recent, from the time in which he had been in New York. That wasn’t what Steve wanted to know about though – it was his past that he was curious about.

_…new hero, dubbed the Winter Soldier, joined the Black Widow today in order to defeat a mysterious new threat which had swarmed times square…_

_…has been known for his work in Washington DC, where he would appear and disappear from nowhere in order to fulfil an unknown agenda at the behest of…_

Even the earliest source he could find online knew almost nothing about what he had done in Washington DC. Or at least, despite there being recognition of the actions he’d done, nobody seemed to have any clue why he’d chosen those particular events to be involved with. There had been plenty which he hadn’t bothered to participate in, after all, and even as he scrolled through message boards talking about their own theories about the soldier (he was getting desperate, okay) there seemed to be little pattern in his motives. Usually there was some kind of clear motive for a hero – even if that was just ‘to save humanity’.

Steve had never been able to work that out about the soldier. And it didn’t seem like anyone else could either.

It really only made him more frustrated that he couldn’t get any kind of read on the soldier, even through secondary sources like this. He was on another level of mysteriousness, and Steve both envied and hated him for it.

Minimising that tab (he wasn’t about to close it – he’d come back to that later) he pulled open some of his work notes. He wasn’t meant to be working on any of that right now (more Natasha’s orders than his, but it still counted) but he couldn’t help but try to at least do something work related like this.

Art… work… art…work in front of him, Steve did his best to focus.

Even with his eyes fixed on the screen in front of him, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts turn to the strange interaction he’d had the day before, the new neighbour.

He hadn’t really heard much from his direction yesterday or today – it was sort of strange that there had been nothing going on with that.

Frankly Steve hoped that he could just avoid the man for the foreseeable future. He had enough fighting already in his free time – he didn’t need to be thinking about any more outside of that.

No, he would keep out of his way. It would all be for the best, for sure. The guy hadn’t seemed pleasant at all.

**

It wasn’t until three days later that Steve actually ran into his new neighbour again. Perhaps if they’d been in the building itself, he might have been caught less off guard by it, but here he was, practically being accosted by the guy in the art store.

Okay, so many he wasn’t actually being accosted by him.

Steve knew that he was practically glaring at the guy. How dare he stand there… looking at paint like that.

Maybe what he was doing wasn’t actually all that threatening, but Steve felt like he still had reason to be suspicious.

A few minutes later, Steve realised that he’d pretty much devolved into following the other man around the store. He’d meant to be in here buying pencils for the time when he would totally find the energy to work on his own art instead of the stuff that he was paid to make for his work, having run out of his good supplies a few months ago and not replaced them since.

Instead, here he was, looking at paint as though he’d not given up on that particular medium years ago after the oil paint + dorm carpet fiasco from his college days. His neighbour was stood a little ways down the aisle, still seeming to browse. Steve was pretty sure that he hadn’t caught sight of him – he was pretty good at keeping stealthy, if he said so himself.

Actually… he found himself beginning to be tempted by these paints. They weren’t too expensive (at least, by the standards of paint) but they were actually from a decent brand… should he buy them? He’d had a lot more practice since The Incident, after all, and it might be that by now he actually could –

A hand landed on his shoulder.

He froze, instinct overcoming everything.

The grip of his unseen foe was firm – firmer than he would have expected most people to be able to pull off. Even with his own belief in his own strength, it was clear in this one detail that if this mystery person were to attack, it would be a difficult fight to win outright.

“Quality paints, aren’t they?” A quiet voice said, closer to his ear than he would have liked.

Steve nodded. Trying to be as subtle as he could – clearly it wouldn’t do at all to show any kind of weakness – he turned his head, just enough to be able to see who he was dealing with.

His neighbour. The scary neighbour was stood there, expression somewhere between the impassiveness he’d shown last time they met and hostility.

Steve swallowed. “Yes, they are,” he replied, his voice miraculously staying steady. The guy must have noticed Steve tailing him – but how? With the training he had, it should have been almost impossible.

For a moment, the grip on his shoulder tightened, and Steve tensed. If this was a sign that he was going to fight, he needed to be ready.

Neighbour’s arm dropped from his shoulder. Then he stepped round, so that he was properly in Steve’s line of vision. Some of the hostility left him, and frankly it made Steve more nervous than before.

Neighbour shuffled his feet a little, and swallowed – and suddenly it hit Steve that the man was _nervous_. What…?

“Look, I – I…” The man trailed off, seeming even more unsure of himself than Steve had expected him to. Steve did his best to not look threatening – if this wasn’t an attack, then he didn’t want to actually scare the man off.

“I wanted to apologise for the other day.”

Steve blinked. Well, that hadn’t been what he was expecting out of this interaction. He certainly looked sincere. Either that or the man was an excellent actor, and Steve really hadn’t gotten than vibe off of him.

When the man began to look even more nervous, Steve realised that he hadn’t actually answered him yet. That probably wasn’t helping matters.

“Right – uh, that’s okay,” he said, trying to figure out what was going on here.

The guy shuffled a little. “Thanks,” he said. Some of the tension seemed to drain out of him. His hand dropped from Steve’s shoulder, and Steve resisted the urge to rub at the spot he’d been squeezing.

“So – so what are you doing here?” Steve asked, like he didn’t suspect that the man had been following him, somehow.

He hefted his basket – which Steve just now noticed was full of paints and paper. “Just – getting some supplies.” He refused to meet Steve’s eyes as he said it – and Steve realised that the man was _shy_. He was embarrassed about his art.

Well, now he felt bad.

He smiled, unable to keep being suspicious at him (even if those thoughts were moved to the back of his mind, not banished). “That’s cool,” he said. “Do you –“

The door chimed as someone else came in – and the man’s entire aura changed again, the tension and worry returning in a heartbeat. Steve saw the way his hands tensed, clenching around the handles of his basket and turning his knuckles white.

“I have to go,” the man said. Even his voice had changed, turning deeper and raspier. Almost scared.

Steve frowned. “What do -?”

By the time he got round to it, the man had already dropped the basket, still full, and almost run out of the shop.

Steve was left there, alone, to figure out what had just happened. Frankly, he had no idea what he was meant to do about it.

He eyed up the things the other man had put in his basket, then at what he’d picked out. There were a lot of similarities there.

An idea began to form in his mind. Even against his better judgement. Even after he’d decided to have nothing to do with the man.

This would be it. He’d do this, and then leave him alone.

**

Tugging at his mask, Steve tried to get comfortable. There was something about being out like this, with nothing to really distract him, that made him feel uncomfortable in his suit. Especially the mask portion – his hair always got smooched the wrong way and made the whole thing terrible.

His legs were beginning to get tired – he’d been out all night, and nothing had really happened. Yet. He never did know what to expect when he came up here at nights, but most of the time that was the fun of it. Not this time though. Some nights were just duds – nothing happened, and he totally could have spent his time rewatching Brooklyn nine nine instead.

That was the downside of being a superhero when there weren’t any major crises going on – they had to remain vigilant, but there was nothing to really do.

Steve didn’t like feeling like he might not be ready – and so, even though Natasha had reminded him that it wasn’t actually necessary, he knew that he wanted to be able to get things done, feel like he was being productive. He wanted to be able to use his powers (such as they were) even if Natasha thought he shouldn’t’ bother.

All was calm tonight, though. Quicksilver’s mission was scheduled for next week – and he knew that it was very likely that there would be no major things going on until then.

The top of the building was even calmer than the rest of the city. Below him there was a small amount of action – people returning from work, from nights out, generally having a good time. Sometimes Steve wished he could be down there, instead of up here. It seemed like a nice place to be.

But, then again, the view was that much sweeter. The lights of the city, the knowledge that he was ready for anything coming his way…

_Swish_

A load of movement to his right startled him, nearly making him lose his balance.

“What the - ?”

The soldier gave him an unimpressed look. “You didn’t see me coming?”

The moonlight glinted off his metal arm. If Steve had thought that he looked intimidating in the counsel hall, then he hadn’t even considered how he would look out in the real world, where his guns (and his actual firearms) would look even more powerful.

He gulped.

Redirecting his attention away from things that he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about right now, he said, “no – Natasha didn’t tell me you’d be joining me.”

He tried to subtly check his phone. Nope – nothing, not since she’d texted him about their weekly catch up chats.

The soldier didn’t say anything – but he did remove a gun from somewhere in his getup, setting it to the side casually, as though there was nothing weird about it.

Keeping an eye on that (Steve was no stranger to firearms, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he trusted the soldier enough with them just yet) Steve coughed. “So what are you doing here?” The question was a little more brusque than he would have liked – this was technically his teammate, after all – but he thought it was justified.

The soldier barely seemed to have noticed that, thankfully. “Natasha told me you’d probably be up here,” he said. Even as he said it, his gaze didn’t waver from where it had been fixed at the skyline in front of them. Steve wasn’t even sure that he really wanted to be here. After all, just because Natasha had said that he _might_ be here didn’t mean that he had to come (and Steve didn’t get the feeling that the soldier was the type to be intimidated by Natasha).

Still, he nodded. “Right…”

A helicopter buzzed by. It didn’t really mean much – if there had been some real emergency that needed them, they would have received notifications about it.

It did light things up a little more though, and Steve couldn’t help but look at the soldier as it did.

Under the cover of darkness, it had been easy to see the soldier’s unnatural stiffness as coldness, indifference. That was how Steve had always interpreted it – how it had always seemed to him.

With more light, though?

Even with the domino mask covering anything of significance, Steve thought that the harsh planes of the other’s face seemed… almost sad.

That didn’t go with everything else he knew about the man. It was pretty much the opposite, in fact.

Perhaps he was just reading into things too much. The soldier was much smarter than that – if he was so easily readable, there wouldn’t be such an aura of mystery around him, both in real life and online.

But then, maybe this was a personal thing. Maybe it was _because_ it was just Steve here that the soldier was letting his guard down.

For a moment, Steve let himself imagine that the soldier actually wanted to be friends. That perhaps they’d find themselves skipping off into the sunset together, a crimefighting duo for the ages. After all, if it turned out that the soldier had a heart under there, that would pretty much change everything. If this was about to be their big bonding moment, then Steve would be entirely willing to rethink his entire stance on the soldier. Nobody could ever say that he wasn’t willing to change his mind – if it turned out that he’d been wrong this entire time, he’d eat his hat.

Even when he acknowledged to himself that yeah, that was incredibly unlikely, it still very much seemed that the soldier was in an unusual mood. Sure, Natasha was usually the one to accuse Steve of starting fights with the other man – but Steve knew full well that the soldier seemed to enjoy picking fights with him just as much. That was sort of – unusual, then, that they were being completely civil right now. The soldier hadn’t made so much as an attempt to annoy him – and he’d had a good ten minutes to do it in.

Maybe all of their disagreements were just in Steve’s head. Maybe they were just misunderstanding each other.

Then the soldier began to fidget – and Steve watched as he pulled out another gun. For fucks sake.

“Is that really necessary?” He snapped. There was just something about this man’s seeming obsession with guns that rubbed him the wrong way – in his hands, they almost seemed like trophies. Like they weren’t literally designed for killing.

The soldier looked his way for the first time since he arrived. “Yes,” he said, the sound muffled by his mask.

Any connection Steve had imagined between them was broken. The moment was lost.

“Well keep them away from me,” he snapped, springing to his feet and marching away.

The barriers were back up – the masks a reminder that they could never know one another, never be close.

He slid a hand over his helmet, wishing again that he could just take it off – knowing that it would make him that much more comfortable.

Sound came from behind him – the sound of heavy boots scrabbling for purchase on the ground, the clank and screech of metal on metal.

The second sent a spike of fear into Steve’s heart, and it was that sound alone that made his turn around to watch his back.

The Winter Soldier was stood there, watching him, hair swaying in the gentle breeze. His metal hand held one of the guns, loosely by his side – and the other was nowhere to be seen. Legs planted wide, he looked confident and dangerous.

Steve’s heart thudded.

Whether from fear or attraction, he didn’t know. All he did know was that he didn’t want to be in this situation any longer.

Taking the plunge, he turned his back on the soldier and parkoured off the side of the building. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he had to stay vigilant.

There was no room for distractions.

**

Steve tried to not hold the tubes of paint too tightly as he checked that everything was in the bag, like he thought. It would be embarrassing to have mixed up what they bought, after all – this was supposed to be it.

Summoning all his courage, he knocked on the door in front of him.

It occurred to him only now that his neighbour might not even be in right now. Not everybody had a normal work schedule, after all, and he might be out with friends, or exploring the place. Maybe if Steve was never able to get hold of him, he’d be able to –

The door opened. A familiar face peered out, squinting into the darkness of their hallway.

Steve lifted up the bag of art supplies. The words that he’d practiced to himself seemed to dry in his throat. At the time it had seemed like a good idea, a nice gesture to someone who clearly had _things_ going on, but what if it just came off as creepy?

“You left your art things the other day, so I… I bought them for you.” Steve used his least threatening voice, trying to make it very clear that he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries here.

For a second, there was no movement from inside the door, and Steve began to prepare to run – and then the door opened fully, revealing his neighbour. It was clear that the man had just woken up – his bedhead said a thousand words, and one cheek was slightly red, like he’d been sleeping on it. “You – you bought my things?” The man asked, reaching out one hand.

Steve handed the bag to him without question – and this seemed to have been the right thing to do, since the other immediately began to rifle through it. “You really did…” The man whispered, probably to himself. It didn’t sound negative – and Steve began to relax. Now the idea didn’t seem such a bad thing to have done after all – and that was the main thing here.

“I – I think I got everything,” Steve said. It had sort of got to the point where he felt a little excluded from what was going on – and he didn’t want to leave until the man had acknowledged what had happened.

Seeming almost confused, still sleepy, his neighbour looked up at him, blinking rapidly. “Right – yeah, I think you did,” he agreed with what Steve had said.

Then he shook his head – and Steve got the feeling that he was trying to wake up still. How late had he gone to sleep? It was literally four in the afternoon.

“Where are my manners?” The man smiled a self-depreciating smile, and held out a hand. “I guess none of our meetings have gone well, huh? I’m Bucky, and I’m very sorry that I’ve made such a bad impression.”

Steve shook Bucky’s hand, wondering why his life was like this. “I guess it’s nice to meet you properly then,” he said. “I’m Steve.”

Bucky still didn’t seem entirely happy – and Steve couldn’t really blame him. Although he seemed more awake now, that only seemed to serve to make him realise how strange all of their interactions had been so far.

Taking pity on the man, Steve said, “do you want to pretend like nothing else happened? Like we only just met?”

Looking slightly stunned, Bucky nodded mutely. Steve watched as he seemed to grip the plastic bag tighter, twisting it between his fingers. It seemed like a different nervous habit to the one he’d seen the day before. More like the nervous, embarrassed man he’d seen before that.

“I’d like that.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, but grateful. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Steve found himself still slightly confused by the demeanour of this man – the differences in how he was presenting himself. Despite the size of him, when he wasn’t trying to be intimidating he seemed to be able to make himself seem small and bashful.

Then he yawned, and Steve realised that he should probably let the man get back to sleep.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your paints. Um – paint something good?” he chuckled.

Bucky gave him a small smile. “Um – yes.”

Well, that was awkward.

Bucky gave him a small wave, and disappeared back into his apartment.

Steve let him go with a mixture of emotions. He felt good, having done a good thing (having hopefully made Bucky happy), but he was also confused about everything else. Bucky didn’t seem to be able to make up his mind about how he wanted to approach Steve.

Oh well. That was definitely him done with Bucky now. Definitely.

**

“Why did you tell him?”

Natasha appeared to jump at his voice, and at the way he slammed his hands onto the table to push his point. He knew her better though – knew that there was no way he’d be capable of catching her off guard, no matter how stealthy he tried to be.

“Tell who what?” She asked, looking up at him with her most innocent look.

Steve turned up the intensity of his glare. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he said, straightening up and taking a seat.

The coffee and cake between them sort of diminished the intensity of their conversation, he had to admit. Natasha liked things to be dainty – and he was never one to deny her anything she wanted.

Natasha took a bite of her cake. “I merely suggested to him that you might want some company,” she said, sounding for all the world like there was nothing more to it than that.

“Did you ever consider that maybe I didn’t want him to keep me company?” Steve asked, keeping his arms far away from the table. Eating the cake Natasha had brought would only make things worse for him.

Natasha gave him a calculating look. “Well perhaps I thought that he could do with keeping someone company.”

Steve groaned. “Nat, what is your obsession with this man?” He asked her, trying to implore her into answering truthfully with his eyes. “You were the one to bring the soldier into our circle, and yet you seem set on forcing him to become friends with us. Can he not make decisions for himself?”

All Steve could think about was how that night had ended – with his genuine fear of the man coming out in full force. The dude was scary – had Nat not considered that maybe the others didn’t actually want him around, for that reason?

Natasha cocked her head to the side. “He can… he just needs some help with it.”

Steve stared at her. “You’re not going to tell me why, are you?”

She shook her head. “Not my secret to tell,” she repeated cheerfully.

Her point was well made. Steve didn’t have to be happy about that, though. Not if it meant having the man creeping around his vigilante time, being all menacing.

“Well could you at least stop meddling in my life?” he huffed. “I don’t need you to babysit me all the time.”

“Are you sure about that?” Natasha shot back. “I don’t know about you, but I remember one particular time where you –“

“OKAY, yes, I get your point,” Steve interrupted her. His cheeks had begun to flush the moment that she said that – he knew the exact incident she was referring to, and he didn’t need her to remind him about it. Not when it practically haunted his nightmare already.

She gave him a ‘you see what I mean’ look.

“But that doesn’t mean that I need you to micromanage my life, Nat,” Steve protested. “If I want me and the soldier to be… friends, then I’ll make it happen. I don’t need you to do it for me.” None of it was technically a lie, and that was good enough for Steve.

She sighed. “I never meant to do that,” she said, looking sincere for the first time. “I just think you two could get along. You have more in common than you know.”

Steve laughed bitterly. “Yeah, and any day now we’ll reveal all of our identities to the public and everyone will treat us like celebrities.”

“Perhaps they would.” Natasha took a sip of her coffee as though it wasn’t a strange statement to make.

“Look, I’m not going to get on with the guy. Ever. End of story” Steve used his firmest voice for the matter. If Natasha wasn’t going to give any better explanation than that he didn’t want to talk about it any longer.

Natasha began to steer the conversation onto cheerier topics, and Steve didn’t have the heart to stop her. If nothing else, his coffee _was_ going cold, and that was just unacceptable.

Worrying about the Winter Soldier could wait for another day. (That day, of course, being in a few days’ time, when they had to work a mission together.)


	3. Chapter 3

Steve paused, looking down the alleyway. He hadn’t meant to see it – he’d just been on his way to work, and happened to glance sideways.

But he couldn’t pass this up. His conscience wouldn’t allow it.

Not for the first time, he wished he had super speed. Quicksilver could change into his costume so quickly that it was worth carrying it around – it would be so handy if he could just change, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about handling it in civilian clothes.

Instead he was just going to have to be a weirdly strong normal man.

But he was going to have to do it before it was too late.

Glancing around, it didn’t seem like anybody else was paying it, or him, any attention.

Go time.

He pulled a baseball cap on as he marched down the alleyway. It was the one thing he could do to try to disguise himself as much as he could during situations like this, and so far he seemed to have gotten away with it. And by that he meant that nobody had tried to report him to the police yet.

The two attackers paid him no attention as he approached. That wasn’t surprising – guys like these always seemed to think that they were invincible, that nobody could possibly touch them. Their attention remained on their victim, who was currently lying on the ground, their possessions scattered every which way.

“Hey!” He called out as loudly as he dared to. That seemed to do the trick – one of the men looked up at him, quickly pocketing whatever was in his hand.

It took him only a second or two to size up the muggers – both were mid-size, easily take-able.

He did falter for one second – as the second man stood up, it became clear that he was holding a knife. He faltered not because he feared for himself – but for their victim, who was still on the ground.

As the first man came swinging at him, he ducked. They seemed angry – unsurprising, really, but still not really what he wanted.

Making sure that the first thing he did was knock the knife out of the second man’s hand, Steve felt much better now that the sharp weapon was out of the picture, kicked behind him the moment it hit the ground. There was a lower chance of death now – and as the men tried to tag-team him, seeming to try to knock him off balance, Steve had to concentrate to hold back.

Steve did his best to not wound too deeply – they were clearly unpleasant people, but causing too much damage would be cause for a big investigation, and he didn’t have the time, or the heart, to do that to petty criminals.

Frankly he wasn’t sure that either of the men were particularly prepared to have been interrupted in the middle of their robbery, but they certainly tried to put up a good fight – Steve found himself taking more punches to the chest than he had anticipated. It wasn’t particularly comfortable – but neither was it something he couldn’t handle.

It didn’t take him long to knock both men out. Breathing heavily, he surveyed the scene, finally able to take the time to. There was less mess than he’d expected – at least, not much that wouldn’t belong in an alleyway, general garbage.

Hoping that he was getting everything together, he took a minute to gather together what he was pretty sure were the victims belongings. Putting them in a sloppy pile (he wasn’t able to start going through the man’s pockets to put them back, that would just look like he was a lazy thief, a scavenger), he did his best to make the scene look a little more presentable.

Looking at the state of their victim, Steve wondered for a second whether he should have hit the two men harder. The poor guy was covered in bruises, but thankfully little blood. If Steve had to hazard a guess, he’d think that the knife was more for intimidation than use, which still wasn’t great, but was better than a full-on knife attack.

Not wanting to wake or move him, for fear that things might be more serious than they appeared, Steve placed a quick call to 911. They’d be able to deal with it much better than he would.

He checked his watch. “Shit,” he muttered to himself.

Fury would, no doubt, be waiting for him to arrive already – given that he was meant to be at work five minutes ago. And that was at least five blocks away.

Cursing himself for stopping when he had already been running late (okay, so there was no way he wouldn’t have stopped to help, but still) he picked up his bag from where he’d left it, dusting as much of the dirt off it as he could. Some of the stains from him putting in in god-knows-what would probably never come out no matter how many times he washed it, and he’d (mostly) made his peace with that fact.

Not for the first time, he was grateful for having long legs now. They truly were a boon, able to zoom him along the sidewalk at incredible speeds….

At least, that was only the case when he wasn’t stuck behind a million slow walkers. Sometimes the world really did its best to test his patience.

Still, he was able to take advantage of even that – he was well aware that his hair was likely a sweaty mess, and he ran a hand through it a few times, doing his best to make it fit to be seen by other people than just the strangers who gave him strange looks as he passed.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he showed up to work looking like he’d just got out of the shower – he’d gotten a reputation by now for having no sense of work decorum, and he’d embraced it as best as he could. Even if some of his co-workers thought that he was gross, he’d rather them think that than think that he was Captain America.

Finally, a clear stretch of sidewalk – he power-walked the home stretch, swinging through the doors half an hour late.

Creeping up the stairs and towards his desk, he hoped that –

“Rogers!” His boss’ familiar bark stopped him in his tracks. Knowing better than to pretend like he hadn’t heard, he turned to see Fury striding towards him, his eyes fixed on Steve.

Steve leaned a hip on the nearest desk, knowing the fury (pun intended) that was about to rain down on him.

“Rogers, you’ve got some nerve showing up here late again,” Fury growled at him.

Right – he’d forgotten just how often this sort of thing happened. Again.

Putting on his best innocent face, he said, “the subway was really crowded again?”

Fury studied his face for a moment. Steve’s heart began to beat faster – he wouldn’t feel guilty for being late, not when he’d been helping people, but losing his job over it would hardly help matters.

Then the fury (pun intended) seemed to drain out of him. Steve didn’t know what had caused his change of heart, but he sure appreciated it. “You’re excused, Rogers. Just make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Steve nodded, knowing full well that both of them knew it would happen over and over again, no matter how much Steve promised it wouldn’t. Fury would never have the heart to do something drastic, like fire him, and Steve would never have the heart to not stop to help people. It went both ways.

**

Coughing slightly, he stood up. “I’m leaving early today,” he said to Peggy, who looked up at him from her desk behind his. He’d told her about his plans yesterday, and she’d approved them, so in theory there should be no problems.

It seemed to take her a second to focus, caught up in her own work – but when her eyes settled on him properly, she smiled. “Sure, Steve. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow pegs.” Giving her a wave as he left, he hurried to where his office locker was, on the ground floor. They weren’t used very often, and frankly Steve wasn’t entirely clear on why they had them in the first place, but they did come in handy for him.

Uncomfortable. That was how a lot of how day had been, along with the disconcerting sensation that he was _squeaking_. He wasn’t, he was sure of it – but with sharper hearing than the average person, he could hear (and feel) the slight chafing that his costume was causing against his regular clothes.

Feeling ever so slightly like everyone must be able to tell that there was something off with his walking, he made sure to keep his interactions with anyone he knew to a minimum.

Stopping off at his locker, he pulled out a large cymbal case. Hoping that his co-workers would just think that he was having some sort of performance, he stuffed his work bag into the locker in its place. Taking out anything that he would need for tomorrow morning – his phone, his wallet – he set off for the place the heist would be taking place in.

He found himself thinking about his preparations for the heist as he walked out of the building, about where everyone was going to meet. In a way, he would have preferred to have more joint preparation than just one meeting – but that would have involved spending more time with the Winter Soldier, and that didn’t exactly sound favourable.

Taking a detour, he took a few minutes to change into his costume. Although it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for his co-workers to know his identity, he didn’t exactly want to do it unless he absolutely had to.

It took longer than he wanted it to – but thankfully not as long as it did sometimes. The last thing he wanted was to get caught with his pants down by his adoring public.

Stashing his clothes away in his bag, and putting the bag up and out of sight (fervently hoping that it wouldn’t get stolen – it didn’t usually, but it wasn’t impossible), Steve was pretty sure that he was ready to go. Getting his shield out, he gave it a quick once over.

With everything looking good, and his cowl firmly in place, Steve headed out, jogging down the street. It wouldn’t do to get caught by someone wanting a photo, or just generally in foot traffic. As he sped by, he could see people double taking, and taking pictures on their phones. Ignoring them, he focussed on getting to where he needed to be.

By the time he reached the meeting place, Steve felt about ready to get on with things. That nervous energy that always filled him was at its peak, pretty much, and it was pretty much time to go and do the heist.

Turning into an alleyway, Steve wondered whether it truly was the best idea for them to be meeting here. It didn’t exactly smell great here; not the first place he would have picked.

Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one in the alleyway. Quicksilver stood there, in his outfit bright against the gloom of the alleyway. His sister also was there, her magic trailing behind her fingers as she moved.

“Captain!” Quicksilver exclaimed as Steve drew closer, turning around in a silvery blur. Then he turned back to his sister. “You should go now.”

As Scarlet Witch walked past him, Steve thought that he felt a slight amount of electricity sparking off her. Weird.

Ignoring it, he kept walking towards Quicksilver. “Are you ready?” Steve asked, trying to avoid any other conversation.

Quicksilver shook his head. “W – Scarlet Witch has gone to check whether everything is good over at the building, and the Winter Soldier hasn’t arrived yet.”

Steve nodded. “Okay. Well, have you had any more thoughts on it since we last saw each other?”

Surprisingly, there was quite a lot that Quicksilver seemed to have come up with since their last meeting. He proceeded to tell Steve about a ton of strategy, which Steve could only hope would actually be reasonable. As far as he was concerned, there were a few holes in his theories, but he didn’t have the heart to correct him, especially since he was talking at full throttle.

There was only one thing which disrupted their conversation.

Crunch. Crunch.

The sound was light, but Steve turned to see what it was anyway, cutting off his conversation with Quicksilver. Striding towards them was the Winter Soldier, looking as murderous as he always did. At least this time it was necessary, Steve thought to himself.

Quicksilver coughed. “Anyway, like I was saying, Mr soldier, you can go in after me. I don’t really want to kill anyone, just to find proof on their computers of what they’ve been doing. I know it’ll be there, so I just need you two to distract them and tie them up.”

The Winter Soldier cocked an eyebrow. “No killing?” He asked. Steve couldn’t tell whether he sounded disappointed or if he was trying to joke around.

Quicksilver laughed. “Not today, man.” He clapped the soldier on the arm, turning away and rooting around in the bag he’d brought. Steve didn’t think that Quicksilver had caught the soldier’s reaction to it – but he had noticed the way that the soldier’s eyes narrowed slightly, like the touch made him tense. What a big reaction to have to such a small touch.

Ignoring that for now, Steve picked up his shield. It looked like whatever Quicksilver had been doing was done with (Steve got the feeling that it was whatever tech he was going to use to hack into the computers), and they were nearly ready to go.

Now to wait for Scarlet Witch to get back.

None of them seemed to know what to do now that they just had to wait around. Quicksilver had been distracted by his phone – unsurprising, since Steve was pretty sure that he was still a teenager – and the Winter Soldier still seemed unhappy. At least, that was how it seemed. Even after his near-epiphany on the rooftop, Steve still wasn’t all that great at reading the guy.

Steve adjusted his cowl, trying to do at least something. (He didn’t fancy trying to dig his phone out of his pocket – of course, he would be able to get it out if he really needed it, but the pockets he had were _very_ tight. Not exactly easy for access.

He looked up as he heard the sound of footsteps making their way towards them, ready to hide if it was a random citizen.

Instead, it was Scarlet Witch, her dress flowing behind her as she walked towards them purposefully. Steve couldn’t help but think that she looked the most heroic of all of them. “I scouted all around,” she said grimly, “I think they’re all in there, if you’re ready.”

“Awesome!” Quicksilver seemed far too hyper for what they were about to do. “Follow me!”

Practically skipping past the rest of them, Quicksilver took the lead in taking them out of the alleyway and towards the building they were about to infiltrate. It was actually a block or so away – they’d thought it would be better to stay away until they were fully ready to go in.

Quicksilver seemed to be constantly on the verge of wanting to run off – Steve could see the way that he blurred in and out of faster speed, like it was taking a great deal of instinct for him to avoid going any faster.

“Calm down,” Steve watched his sister whisper to him, placing a calming hand on his elbow. Steve wasn’t sure how effective it was going to be – the man was incredibly excitable most of the time, and Steve could only imagine that he also suffered from the same nervous excitement that plagued the rest of them most of the time when it came to going on missions.

They were getting a lot of stares from people on the street – it wasn’t surprising, but it wasn’t exactly great either. Not when they had actual, important things to be getting on with. Sometimes they were treated like they were like any other celebrity, like it was totally fine to just try to stop them in the street and try to take a selfie (which had actually happened to Steve before. Like, he got it, they were all so mysterious and people would pounce at any chance that they could to get a picture with them, but what exactly did these people think that they were doing in their suits?).

Just as Steve had suspected, the moment that they reached the right building, Quicksilver was off like a rocket. With Steve and the Winter Soldier taking up the rear, Scarlet Witch entered second, her red wisps of magic floating around all of them. If the people inside the building hadn’t noticed them by now, they certainly would now.

Even though Quicksilver was likely already well on the way to getting on with whatever computer magic he was working, as Steve entered the building it became clear that the workers were only just clocking onto the fact that something was going down in their building. They made their way through the first floor, which Steve could only assume was pretty open – at least, there were no barriers to stop them from marching in – and the people milling around there were doing their best to make their eyeballs fall out, with all the staring they were doing. It was likely that nobody in this part had anything to do with the wrongdoings of the higher-ups, and Steve paid them little attention. It seemed that the Winter Soldier wasn’t paying them much mind either – but Steve could see the way that he glared at them, and their reaction to that (which was mostly looking away, and looking fairly scared. Steve couldn’t blame them – none of these people seemed the type to be into physically fighting anyone, and the Winter Soldier looked like he was itching to brawl with every single one of them. Although really that was more how he looked all the time.).

Rather than wait for the elevators, it seemed that Scarlet Witch had chosen that they would take the stairs up to the parts of the building that were actually relevant to the mission.

Well – he and the soldier were going to take the stairs. Seeming to be in her own world, Steve watched as Scarlet Witch simply floated up the middle of the staircase, bypassing the need to hurry up them at all. It wasn’t her job to look out for them, though, and Steve didn’t begrudge her doing something that was easier for her.

Beginning his own ascent, taking the stairs three at a time, Steve began to work his way up to where she was as quickly as he could possibly. She was waiting for them, he was sure – even though she was about three storeys up by this point (which had to be ever so slightly terrifying to be floating over, Steve thought).

The Winter Soldier was slightly slower to get a move on with tackling the stairs, and for a moment Steve wondered whether he was going to go take the elevator (now _there_ was a comedic image). He looked to his left as he crossed the landing part of the stairs, wondering what the soldier was planning.

Then the soldier grabbed onto the railing on the middle side of the staircase with his metal hand, jumped and _heaved_ himself up, grasping at the railing with his other hand and bringing his legs up to rest his feet on the side of the stairs themselves to balance.

Steve gulped, and nearly tripped up, his rhythm disturbed.

He continued to watch as the soldier parkoured himself up the centre of the staircase, pure brute strength employed to get him up there as quickly as possible.

The way that the bicep curled to get him up that first part of the move, the power in his legs that sent him from one side of the staircase to the other like it was nothing…

Steve still hated the man, but damnit if the more time he spent around him, the more he was attracted to him.

By the time they reached the floor that Scarlet Witch had stopped at, it was clear that word had begun to spread. Scarlet Witch was already in the middle of the room, directing things (which seemed to mostly involve stopping people from leaving the room).

There was the beginnings of chaos there – proof that they were paying some attention to what was going on. People were halfway out their seats, looking at them in a puzzled way through the glass that currently separated the reception area from the work areas they could see.

The receptionist was still in her chair at the front of the room. If anyone, Steve felt sorry for her. After all, she was likely not involved with any of this, being a ‘low’ employee. Honestly Steve would be surprised if many of the people that were in here were actually involved with the crime, but he supposed it wasn’t impossible either.

Ignoring the receptionist’s insistence that they couldn’t go in there, they pushed through the door that led to where Scarlet Witch was. She and her brother had been so much the brains of the operation that Steve actually wasn’t 100% sure how much they needed to get out of here – who they might actually be fighting.

Of course, it wasn’t lost on him that both he and the Winter Soldier had volunteered for this mission. They probably weren’t needed at all – both Quicksilver and his sister were so powerful, and so knowledgeable about all of this that they probably could have carried out all of this without needing any of the muscle that he and the Winter Soldier brought.

Honestly for a good few minutes none of them really did anything other than stand there and look intimidating. It was a pretty easy job to do, and he was pretty sure that he and the soldier were doing a good job of it.

The change came about the room slowly. So slowly that he almost missed it happening entirely, like the difference between watching a flower grow in real time and watching it through a time lapse. The difference was easy to see, but only when directly compared to how it had been a good deal ago.

Some of the workers had settled down to work, like the three of them weren’t actually important enough to warrant them stopping them doing their work. Those weren’t really the ones that Steve was worried about, since they mostly seemed normal.

Others had become more panicked, their levels of hysteria reaching a level where Scarlet Witch had to restrain them with her magic. It would have looked cool, or even pretty, if it weren’t for the fact that they were here for a very serious mission. Even when restrained, they seemed to thrash around din their bonds, like they thought if they tried hard enough they could escape the magic. Steve was pretty sure that he even saw some foam at the mouth, like they were becoming rabid with the need to… do what, Steve wasn’t actually sure. There was a whole lot of shouting going on, but between all of them Steve wasn’t sure that they were actually saying anything of importance.

It was these ones who really made the whole thing look like there was something fishy going on. It wasn’t like they were actually having to do any physical fighting, so why were they acting like they had to scare them off? Were they really just that loyal to the company?

They weren’t the ones that made Steve think that Wanda had been right to pick this floor after all, though. No, those ones were much worse. These seemed a lot like the ones who just wanted to get on with their work, in the sense that they were calm, that they didn’t try to run, or shout, or attack them.

No – instead they just stood there, in the middle of the room, wherever they had been. Stock still. Staring. And talking – quietly, but not quietly enough that Steve couldn’t hear them. It was all nonsense, none of it comprehensible, just strings of words strung together in an imitation of real sentences.

It was impossible to tell if it was some kind of temporary collective insanity, brought on by stress – which, if Steve had to choose, would be his preferred choice. Instead he was fairly certain that it was likely some sort of order that they were following – although why only some of them, he was unsure.

Even with all that creepiness going on, Steve still found that there was little to do. The whole point was that they weren’t _doing_ anything yet, there was no reason to fight them.

The Winter Soldier didn’t seem to be as unbothered by it as he was. Obviously it was still difficult to read his emotions, but that didn’t stop the soldier from pulling out one of his guns (where was he even keeping it? Steve hadn’t seen where he pulled it from, but half the time it didn’t seem like there was even room for him to store them on his person). Steve found himself half worried that something darker was about to go down – but the gun seemed to mostly be for intimidation purposes.

A small noise.

Just a quiet one, probably from far away.

It didn’t even seem that the others had noticed it, and Steve figured that he should probably just leave it alone for now, if it wasn’t relevant to the mission.

But then it got slightly louder, and Steve cocked his head to the side. “Wha…?”

The Winter Soldier shot him a confused look. Steve glanced at the people they were meant to be watching – none of them seemed to be looking at them – and asked, “do you hear that?”

The Winter Soldier frowned (or at least, his eyebrows lowered). “No,” he said. His tone was ever so slightly unsure though , and at that moment, the noise became louder still. This time it was more like a rumble, and tinged with the sound of shouting.

Scarlet Witch turned around to look at them. Before she could do anything, a blur shot into the room, forming into Quicksilver standing next to where his sister was floating. He was holding his bag awkwardly, it looking somewhat larger and lumpier than it had before. “We have to go now,” Quicksilver said, looking slightly frazzled.

Scarlet Witch blinked, looking confused. “What? This wasn’t in the plan.” She was right; it hadn’t been in their plan at all. 

Quicksilver darted out of the room, and then back in again. There was no telling what he’d seen, but it had to have been something horrific to cause such a reaction.

“Yep. We definitely have to go.”

Steve stepped forward. “Is everything –“

He was cut off by the sound of footsteps marching their way down the stairs outside. “Yep, we need to go,” he said, hoping that if they got out of the building fast enough then maybe they’d be able to go before they got caught.

The Winter Soldier didn’t seem to have heard the noises yet – but he followed them anyway, for once not doing something unexpected. They took up the same formation as before as they left, Scarlet Witch’s tendrils of magic fading from the room as they left.

Perhaps that was their biggest mistake, in hindsight – or perhaps it was that last glance that Steve took at the room, pausing as he went.

In the twenty seconds it took for them to walk out of the room (and Steve didn’t miss the fact that the harried receptionist was gone, probably scared off), the scene had totally changed. Even the people that Steve thought were perfectly calm had dissolved into the frantic actions of the others – desks were being smashed up, computers were lying on the floor, discarded by their owners. The fake plants that had brought some colour to the room were tipped up, soil spilled over the edge and soiling the carpet.

In short, it was chaos.

But the others had gone on ahead, none of them bothered about the state of things like he was. The rumble was louder now – and now Steve was pretty sure he knew what it was.

The sound of many feet, running down the stairs.

Steve dreaded to think what Quicksilver had found up there.

Dashing out himself, he hoped they could make it out before some of them caught up with them. He could see the others running down themselves, significantly ahead of him, and the sound of the people coming their way was slowly catching up with them.

A louder bang, directly on the stairs above Steve.

That sent shocks of worry through Steve, and he gripped his shield tighter. Trying his best to run faster, he realised quickly that it was much more difficult to run quickly down the stairs than it was to go up the stairs.

Then the bang came again. Closer, this time. Too close.

He risked glancing up as he did.

Staring at him from the flight above was…. Someone. Or something.

Steve didn’t want to stick around to find out. He booked it down the stairs, still knowing that his teammates were too far away to do anything if something happened –

Pain flared across the top of his head.

Too late he registered that there had been another bang, one which shook the stairs around him.

He stumbled a little, the weight of what had hit him pushing him down another few stairs. Gripping on to his shield, he turned around to see his attacker.

Grey skin.

That was the first thing he saw. Like, the skin of a zombie. Except this was no zombie they were up against.

As Steve looked up, taking all of it in, the creature grinned, showing fangs for days. Each of their teeth was sharpened to a point, lending a vampire-like look to his whole face – and Steve took another step down.

Steve had never been so thankful for his quick reflexes. The _thing_ swung as him, showing off how overexaggerated his muscles were, skin stretching over them to the point of looking paper thin, and Steve raised his shield, deflecting the blow and getting a hit in on the backstroke. It made a metallic clang against the armour that the _thing_ was wearing, which seemed to startle it somewhat – and Steve took that moment to shout, “guys?” Not that he thought he needed the backup, but it seemed like this thing was going to take some fighting to destroy.

He didn’t know whether the others had heard, but that was okay – in the long run it might be better if they didn’t have to fight it, since it didn’t seem to be friendly in the slightest.

“What do you want?” Steve huffed out as he blocked several hits from the monster. It seemed to have noticed that if it left any openings that Steve would attack – and there were none to be had, the thing making sure that Steve had no chances to do anything other than defend himself.

It was during this time that two things happened – one good, one bad.

A tendril of red floated its way up to them, tickling the monster lightly, and Steve’s heart leapt, knowing that backup was on its way. It lent him a new sort of strength, and he managed to find an opening to get up a few steps so that he was on an equal level to the monster.

Unfortunately, this was the exact same time that the rest of the army that seemed to be in this building caught up with them. Steve had been so distracted by trying not to get knocked off the stairs that he’d forgotten that they were still on their way.

Steve watched as they amassed on them from up the stairs, descending down on them like a rabid sea. He didn’t know what he had been expecting – maybe more of these weird, humanoid _creatures_ , but instead they were a puzzling mix of what seemed to be office workers, dressed in dishevelled suits, and others looked like they were dressed for battle, in armour that protected their chests and concealed their faces.

Suddenly, Steve was so much less sure that they were going to be able to defeat any of them easily.

But he couldn’t back out now, couldn’t leave, not when Quicksilver and the Winter Soldier already had his back.

He couldn’t leave by going up the stairs either, not when there were a hundred people there ready to fight him.

Shit.

They spent the next few minutes being shovelled down the stairs. Even Quicksilver was no match for so many enemies all at once, not when they were packed in together like that.

To be fair, it wasn’t totally a loss – since not much actual fighting was going on, they didn’t take on much damage. Even the big monster, the one that Steve had thought would need all of them to take on, kept to _seeming_ threatening, waving his club in the air and baring his teeth. Steve tried to fight him again, but there was very little he could do while on such an unstable surface, just consistently being forced to walk down the stairs backwards.

Eventually, the more they fought, the more of the foot soldiers were downed. They fell like ants on the stairs, and Steve might have felt more sorry for them if it wasn’t for all his focus being on the monster the entire time.

They got down to the lobby far too quickly. By the time they got down there, the monster was the only one of their attackers still standing – albeit with many cuts on its skin (which, weirdly weren’t bleeding?). The area was bigger than any other that they’d fought this thing in, and it immediately changed things. With space to really swing his club, the monster was able to get a good swing in, and Steve found himself ducking more than he had done otherwise.

And then the Winter Soldier charged at it. Steve wished he could see the soldier’s expression right now, because he could only imagine how determined he was.

The soldier jumped – and at the same time, a flash of color and a breeze flew past Steve.

Somehow the combined efforts of the Winter soldier and Quicksilver managed to take down the thing. Steve and Scarlet Witch had very little to do with it – it was mostly over before there was time to do much.

Then they got the fuck out of the building as quickly as possible.

All of them concentrated on trying to catch their breath.

“What the fuck was that?” The Winter Soldier growled, still sounding winded. “You didn’t tell us anything about there being a fucking _monster_ to fight.”

Quicksilver looked so pale he was practically see-through. His worried face seemed more like he was about to start crying than Steve had ever seen him. Sometimes he forgot that not all superheroes had been going for as long as he had, and some were still pretty young.

“We can’t be able to know everything about these missions,” Steve pointed out, not wanting Quicksilver to feel like this was all his own fault. “I mean, the whole point about it is that they’re not good people. Why should they let people know that they have some sort of… monster.” Steve was hesitant to use the same word that Bucky had, but he had to admit that it did fit.

Scarlet Witch shook her head – but she didn’t look like she was disagreeing with them. “There was no notice of them being affiliated with any villains when we began this project. Was there?” She turned to her brother.

Quicksilver shook his head slowly. “No… no, I really thought that we wouldn’t…”

The Winter Soldier fixed his glare on him. “You thought we wouldn’t _what_?”

Even the Scarlet Witch seemed confused about what was going on. With all of them focussing on him, Quicksilver seemed suddenly nervous, almost shy.

“I didn’t want to get into it because I thought it wouldn’t be relevant for this mission, but I did see some minor… minor evidence of there being some affiliation with other companies who have more power than them. But I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would come up at all. I mean, we were just busting them. If they have a few shareholders who are worse than them, why should it be relevant?” He looked like he was trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing rather than show the others that everything was fine.

Scarlet Witch was the first to speak – the one who was least afraid to tell him off, Steve supposed. “You never told me that!” As she rounded on him with wild eyes, her magic beginning to poke out around her. “You –“

“I didn’t think it was necessary!” The paleness was beginning to fade from Quicksilver’s face, to be replaced by an angry flush. “I just – I thought it would be over and done with quickly!” He waved a hand towards Steve and the soldier. “I didn’t think we’d actually need these two!”

Scarlet Witch threw up her hands in frustration. “But didn’t you think it would at least be worth _telling us_?”

The Winter Soldier broke up the fight by barging between them. “You two are a disgrace,” he growled again, shoulders hunched like he was anticipating another fight. “You should have done your research better if you were going to put us near – near things we aren’t prepared for.”

Steve picked up on the slight hitch in his sentence – but he had no idea what else he might have been going to say. Given that nothing was known about his past, it was impossible to know what skeletons might be hiding at the back of that closet.

They watched him storm away, disappearing quickly into the crowd. He truly was an impressive machine, Steve couldn’t help but think.

And even then, he was still hot.

Knowing that now really wasn’t the time to dwell on that, he turned back to the siblings, who were glaring at one another.

“It’s okay,” he said, unable to stand the idea of them feeling bad about it. “You brought us along for the muscle; that’s what we do best here. That was the right choice, and you’re right that you couldn’t have known that they were going to come for us.”

It seemed to work a little – they weren’t spitting at each other yet – but Quicksilver seemed down still, not quite his usual hyper self.

“I’ll see you next week at the meeting, okay?” Steve knew that hanging around here would only cause the media to descend on them like a pack of hyenas, laughing as they devoured them. Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch would be able to escape that easily, but his only route was the same as the soldier’s – being as in visible as he could possibly be in a bright blue suit and with a dinner-plate of a shield.

He left those two looking slightly disappointed, on the lawn outside the building. There was a certain amount of guilt he felt over it, but he absolutely had to leave. The crowds were already beginning to gather – and unlike Steve, Quicksilver would be able to get himself and his sister out of there with his speed.

Now to hope that his clothes would still be there when he came back.

**

Picking up one of the newspapers in front of him, Steve debated buying it. Flicking through it, he wondered whether it was worth buying. He could get the same information online for free, after all… But then, it was always nice to have a physical copy of the reports of his exploits.

Moving it about in his hands, he turned the idea over in his mind.

Then he felt a tugging at the bottom of his coat.

Jumping, he looked to the side, half expecting to see Bucky somehow there, stalking him again. Instead he had to look down before he saw anyone – and there stood a small child staring up at him.

“Can I help you?” He asked, when the child said nothing.

No response. The child just…. Stood there, eyes and mouth gaping wide. It didn’t seem entirely strange for children to be doing that, but this seemed to be taking it a little bit too far.

“Helloooo…?” Steve tried waving at him a little.

That seemed to do the trick.

The kid leaned in close, beckoning him to come in too. Bemused, Steve humoured him, crouching down (and accidentally crumpling the newspaper in his hand – he was definitely going to have to buy it now). The kid was far too close now – and he whispered in Steve’s ear. “are you captain America?”

Steve froze.

“No,” he chuckled awkwardly. “No, why would you even think that? That’s dumb.” He recognised that he was rambling, but was powerless to stop himself.

He went to stand up – but found that the child still had a grip on his coat. The child began to shake his head. “But you look just like him!” He exclaimed, apparently forgetting all about his previous worries about remaining secretive.

Steve glanced about the store, hoping that nobody was listening to them. “Well I’m not,” he said shortly, his worry about being caught like this rising and making him a little crueller than he might have been already.

The child’s wide-eyed curiosity seemed to move into sadness in the way only children’s emotions can. “But – but you look just like him. Are you _sure_ you’re not him?” He began to pout, and Steve felt his heart physically melt.

He hated having to lie to anyone, even children. For a microsecond he considered telling the child that it was him, but that he had to keep it a secret. Btu even that was too risky, carried the possibility of this child telling all his friends where Captain America liked to shop, and then he’d never be able to come back here again. No, overall it wasn’t worth the risk. Even if it broke his heart to do so.

So he shrugged. “Nope. Sorry kid, I’m really not him.”

Finally the child let go of his coat, and Steve stood up. Thankfully the store was empty enough that he could get away with such an odd interaction and nobody was around to question it. The last thing he needed was random adults getting it into their heads that he was Captain America too – that would end even worse than this had, for sure.

Then the sound of a woman’s voice, frantic and high pitched, reached him. “Barry? Barry?” Judging by the reaction of the kid in front of him, Steve could only conclude that his interrogator was the Barry in question.

“Shouldn’t you get to your mom?” Steve asked, amused, watching as the kid began to take on the sheepish demeanour of a child who knows they’re in trouble.

Barry nodded. “See you later, Captain America!” He said as he ran off in the direction of his mom’s voice.

Steve groaned, resisting the urge to shout after him that he wasn’t Captain America. That would probably only make things worse for himself. (Listening to his mom chew him out over it did sort of make him feel better about it though. Karma came for everyone.)

Trying to ignore it, he went about smoothing the paper that was still in his hands. Oh well – he was probably going to buy it anyway, so it didn’t matter that he’d ruined it a bit. It’d be fine.

Knowing that he didn’t even need to read it, that the main coverage would be within the first few pages of the paper, he went to pay for it.

Making sure that he didn’t allow himself to so much as look at it until he got home, he tucked the paper away in his bag and tried to think of other things. With so many deadlines looming, it was actually surprisingly easy – yet his mind wanted to come back to the heist, time and time again. No matter what the papers said, he would see all the ways in which he failed, where he could have done better, where he was sure Natasha would tell him off. That was non-negotiable, even if he knew that he would keep the clipping to admire later on. (Maybe admire was a strong word for it, but he had a scrapbook of each time he’d been in the news. By this point he wasn’t even sure what its purpose was meant to be, but he kept it around nonetheless.)

Despite the sun in his eyes, and the volumes of other people crowding the sidewalk, Steve enjoyed his walk home. It was a time to just let his mind think about nothing, to not worry about work, or about being a vigilante. Just to think about putting one foot in front of another, of being just like everyone else. Being normal.

As though that was something he had ever known, in one form or another.

When he reached his home, he didn’t read it immediately either. He sat down, read some inane news about some internet celebrity, kicked up his legs for a bit. He was still slightly sore, and he didn’t want to strain himself too badly, especially after having had a full day of work on top of everything.

He couldn’t help but continue to glance over to it though – it was so tempting, to look at it, to know what they’d said about him and the rest of the team.

The moment that he saw an article online pop up about the heist, his will to resist broke.

Setting his phone down, he picked up the paper. Flicking through the first few pages, he saw that his prediction had been right – the coverage of the heist was on the first page, eye catching with its large picture of the CEO of the company, tied up where Quicksilver had left him.

Discarding the rest of the paper – maybe he’d read it if he was bored or something – he began to scan through it, trying to get the gist and get in the right mindset.

_….newcomer Quicksilver was the first on the scene, and was seen by many reporters…_

Steve smiled – Quicksilver had been so eager that day, there even before he had said he would be. While Steve had thought that it was slightly irresponsible – after all, he should have waited for backup – he had to admit that, in hindsight, he couldn’t blame him for being eager and overconfident. After all, when you can run away from pretty much any danger, why wouldn’t you be a little fearless?

Overall, the whole article was pretty positive. It helped when there was an easily targetable ‘bad guy’ for the press to go after, rather than someone who was a little less obviously worthy of fighting. Steve saw little evidence of criticism – rare, for the papers, who loved to find any way to show what a terrible thing their existence was most of the time.

The guy who had fought Steve was being called unknown in the media. That was understandable – even though he’d been vaguely hoping that someone in the media might have recognised him when they didn’t.

And, to be fair, when it came to the pictures of the person they’d fought (Steve refused to refer to it as a monster, even though the Winter Soldier had, since it was definitely a human under there), it was easy to see how it was so easy to paint them as the good guys. The media wouldn’t have seen the part before, where they were struggling to defeat him inside the building. Honestly that was probably a very good thing – that the media hadn’t got a hold of them while they were in a bad way with the fight, and that meant that they couldn’t use it against them later.

There was little in there that Steve hadn’t known about. In fact, it seemed like they had known more than any of the media, which was a good feeling. It didn’t help him figure things out, though.

Putting the paper down, he figured this would be a good place to stop. It wouldn’t’ do to dwell on it any longer than he had already – not when there was so much talk he was bound to hear about it at work.

Picking up his phone instead, he finally allowed himself to have a look at the other news. It was a totally different ball game – even though there had been very little destruction to the building, there were plenty of people who had been witness to what had happened. There were some good descriptions of what had gone on – from the outside, at least. There was still no more information about the people behind any of it.

All in all, a successful mission. Nobody knew who he was, they’d foiled the people they needed to, and the city was safe again.

But none of those mattered. Not when he was trying to figure out what was going on here. And what was with the Winter Soldier. And his neighbour.

**

Walking upstairs with a basket of laundry, Steve tried to juggle it and his keys. If only that was one of his powers – being able to unlock doors without needing keys. Wouldn’t that just be great?

He snorted to himself, still trying to keep the basket stable and simultaneously get his keys out of his pocket. It was more difficult than it should be – it had caught on the side of his pocket or something, and he wouldn’t be able to get it out without some serious wiggling.

Sighing, he bent down to put his basket on the ground and get his keys that way.

As he stood back up, he heard the sound of a door opening further down the hallway. Turning to look at it, he saw Bucky step out of his apartment, the door locking automatically behind him. Steve automatically turned away quickly, not wanting to be seen staring.

Pulling his keys out properly, and picking his laundry up again, Steve went about getting into his apartment.

He couldn’t resist sneaking a glance over at Bucky though. It seemed like there was something up with him – Steve watched as he limped over to the stairs. It looked painful. He was wearing his traditional long shirt and gloves, as per usual, but as he moved the collar of his shirt moved a little, exposing some nasty looking scratches.

Wondering what could possibly have caused that, Steve entered his apartment before any interaction could take place. Temptation was there, to go and ask if he was okay, to see what was up. Perhaps it would make him a good friend – but he couldn’t justify it to himself. Those scratches were a reminder to himself that the guy was dangerous. There was something about him that Steve didn’t like, even if he often seemed bashful about the weird things he did.

As he was putting his washing away though? His mind kept coming back to Bucky.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. The more he played that short snip of seeing him walk over to the stairs, the more Steve thought that it seemed like he had been in genuine pain. There was for sure something more serious going on with the man, and Steve found an amount of guilt over not doing something about it.

Even when it was done with his chores, and he was sat trying to relax (he was still slightly sore himself from yesterday), he found himself thinking that he should probably go and see if there was anything he could do for him.

No, he shouldn’t, he told himself. Bucky was a loose cannon, he was unpredictable and strange. Steve didn’t know what kind of reception he might meet if he tried to get anywhere near him. It would be a fool’s errand.

Steve could only imagine the pain that he must be in though….

Before he knew it, he was outside again, going to buy chocolate. He didn’t know what he was going to do with it, but he couldn’t let himself have Bucky go about injured without doing something about it. They’d interacted enough that apparently his brain thought of Bucky as a friend, someone who needed him to help out.

It occurred to him as he was stood at the counter that perhaps Bucky didn’t even like chocolate. Well, he’d just have to see what happened – if he didn’t, perhaps the thought would count at least?

He made his way back to his apartment, nerves growing. Sure, he wasn’t meant to be talking to Bucky any more… but he sort of had to make sure that Bucky was okay, right? That was only something that a good neighbour would do, it wasn’t that strange.

Telling himself that as he procrastinated going round (taking out the bin and cleaning his kitchen thoroughly was also very important), he ended up waiting for longer than he would have liked to go round.

Every time he caught sight of that innocuous box of chocolates, he kept worrying that he was making the wrong choice, whether he was taking the chocolate round or choosing not to. There was no way to win.

Eventually, (and after an hour of deliberating) he decided to just take a leaf of out Bucky’s book and to just leave it outside of his apartment. That way there was a much lower chance of having to think about it too much afterwards.

He picked up the box, heart thudding. The short walk from his table, where it had sat, to being outside Bucky’s door, seemed stupidly long, even though it shouldn’t have been.

Bending down, he placed the chocolates on the doormat.

It occurred to him as he walked away that he hoped that Bucky knew that it was him that was leaving it. Even though logically Steve knew that he didn’t want to go out of his way to make Bucky like him, he just couldn’t help but want for Bucky to be able to acknowledge that Steve was being nice to him. Plus… even though Steve still thought that Bucky would be too much to be friends with, he couldn’t help but want the mysterious man to like him.

Wasn’t that kind of dumb, though?

Steve paused in his walking back to his own apartment, knowing that it must be clear that Bucky already liked him, at least a bit. Why else would he have accepted the art supplies?

But then he heard movement, like Bucky’s door was about to open. Scampering back over to his own apartment, Steve did his best to close his own door quietly and make it seem like he had done nothing.

He could only hope that it worked.


	4. Chapter 4

The gift started not long after the day he’d given Bucky the chocolate. They were innocuous things – things that could have come from anyone, pretty much.

Flowers, chocolate bars. Things you’d woo someone with.

Steve didn’t put too much weight on it until he caught Bucky placing a small bag on his doorstep as he was coming up the stairs. He’d hidden behind the wall of the stairs, peering round the corner at Bucky as he walked back to his own apartment.

Actually it hadn’t surprised him that much that it was Bucky – although he had found himself wondering why Bucky felt the need to give him gifts back. Had he not understood the idea that he didn’t need to pay Steve back for what he’d gotten him?

It was unclear, for a good week or so – until Steve ended up running into Bucky properly.

Nice day, the sun was out, the birds were singing… and Steve spotted a familiar figure, dressed in black, sleeves rolled down, glove on. Even at a distance it was clearly Bucky, no doubt about it. Should he go over? He wasn’t sure – but then Bucky turned around.

He must have pretty good eyesight, almost as good as Steve’s, because despite the distance between them Steve saw him clock him. There was no mistaking it – and Steve found that he couldn’t resist going over to say hello. He could have said that it was just social convention… but that would have been a lie.

“Hey there, neighbour,” Steve said, trying to stay as casual as possible.

Bucky’s cheeks were red. Steve got the feeling that he didn’t have any control over that right now – and really he couldn’t blame him. “Hi,” he muttered, looking downwards. Perhaps it was wearing all those layers that was making him so red – or maybe it was the fact that Steve had caught him doing that. Or maybe both.

He knew that he couldn’t let Bucky feel bad though, not when he had been so nice in getting him all those gifts. “How have you been doing? Feeling better?” Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to bring up what had made him self-conscious the last time, but it was a genuine concern.

Bucky gave him a small smile. “Yeah, I am thanks,” he said, almost shyly.

“Good,” Steve said, trying to contain the emotions that wanted to break out of him, “I’m glad to hear it.”

Bucky smiled, looking down at his feet. It was amazing how such a large man could manage to look so small and adorable – and Steve felt his heart react in turn, speeding up its beating.

Steve wondered whether he should mention the presents. It felt like he should – either to thank him, or to tell him that he didn’t need to be spending his money on him, or… something. Anything that would make the situation clearer.

“I’ll see you later,” Bucky said, moving to go round Steve. “I – I’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Oh – okay, bye.” Steve said, turning to wave at Bucky as he left.

Once Bucky had gone, there was less reason for Steve’s emotions to stay inside him. His attempts to avoid blushing by walking briskly away failed – he could feel the color building in his cheeks just at the fact that he’d spoken to Bucky.

He really needed to get a grip on his emotions.

**

Turning on the tv, Steve realised that there was a piece on the news about a superhero he didn’t recognise. Turning the sound up on the tv, Steve leaned forward.

_“… new superhero, who has yet been unidentified, showed up yesterday at the scene of a bank robbery in progress. Swinging into the scene, this ‘spider man’ as they have been referred to as, proceeded to tie the perpetrators up using a concoction which seems to have been of their own making, which despite the best efforts of the police has been impossible to remove…”_

Footage from the attack was shown, ranging from black and white cctv video to shaky cellphone videos with accompanying gasps and shrieks from the crowds inside and outside the bank. This new hero was dressed head to toe in red, their outfit baggy but tucked in tightly enough that no assumptions could be made about their identity.

Well, there was always room for one more hero in this city. Steve had to say, he was impressed at the skill with which the unknown hero directed their webs.

The more of them there were, the more good they could do overall.

**

Natasha’s text came through a few days later.

‘Don’t forget that our next team meeting is this Friday’ her message read, short and sweet.

Steve didn’t bother to reply to it. He didn’t need to; she would know that he would have seen it. His thoughts on the meeting were already mixed – so much had happened in the time between the last meeting, and he didn’t have a single clue how that was going to go.

The few days in between the text arriving and the meeting itself were mostly spent as normal. Steve had surprisingly little recovering to do – the majority of the damage he had sustained was superficial, and he ended up not having to take any time off of work like he had thought he would have to.

Still, he was glad that the majority of his job involved sitting down.

By the time the meeting day rolled around, Steve felt mostly better. Getting his suit back on wasn’t too difficult (although there was one rip that he had forgotten to patch up in time, and he hoped that nobody would notice it), and he set off for it without too much trouble.

Even adjusting for the Friday night traffic, it didn’t take him too long for him to get to their base. It was ever so slightly lighter than it had been the last time here was here – the lengthening days starting to impact on the cover of darkness. On the one hand, that was definitely a bad thing, but at the same time he liked having daylight – he had never been a fan of trying to fight at night, not when he needed to be absolutely sure that he wasn’t going to harm any civilians.

By the time he got down to the actual meeting room, it seemed like for once he was one of the first ones there. That was rare – but as he rounded the corner, the first one that he saw there was the Winter Soldier. His demeanour, as always was filled with ‘don’t fuck with me’, and ‘I don’t really want to be here’.

It was the worst possible way he could have begun the meeting. The good mood that he had begun it in was gone already.

But, as he turned and looked at who else was here, he realised that the twins had taken their spots on the other side of the table.

“Good evening,” he said, knowing that the twins at least would be willing to talk to him properly.

Quicksilver smiled at him. “Hey there captain. How are you?” He leaned back in his chair, looking nothing like the worried boy that had left the mission the other day.

Steve smiled back. “I’m good, thanks.” There was little point in saying anything more. “Yourself?”

“I’m fine.” Quicksilver’s words were as casual as the way he was sitting, but Steve didn’t miss the way that he grimaced slightly as he moved in his chair.

Steve chose to not call him out on it though. Where would be the point in that?

Scarlet Witch laughed. “Don’t pretend like you’re totally fine.” She turned to address Steve. “You should have seen how much of a baby he was the night after the mission. He made me clean up his wounds and everything.”

Steve grinned. Admittedly, that sort of was an amusing image.

He always got the feeling that the twins would rather like it if the group knew each other a little better. He wouldn’t have minded that either, to be honest – although he could imagine the havoc it would cause if _everyone_ knew each other’s identity. Hah. What a world that would be.

The next person to arrive was Natasha. Her face was as stony as ever – not something that worried Steve very much, but he still thought that it would sometimes be nice if he could address her directly in these situations. If he could check that she was alright without giving away to the rest of the team that they were on a first name basis.

Still, she took her place next to the soldier – and he was reminded that she was on a friendly basis with him too, apparently.

He gave credit to all of his practice at controlling his expressions for not scowling at the thought.

They mostly waited in silence for everyone to get there. The twins whispered between themselves, eyes occasionally flickering over to the rest of them. That wasn’t exactly uncommon in their meetings either – they constantly had their own kind of conversation going, both verbal and implied with facial expressions. It was sort of fascinating.

Time passed slowly. Steve did his best to make eye contact with Natasha, hoping to have at least some kind of interaction with someone, but she wasn’t forthcoming. Appearing to be wrapped up in her own thoughts, she stayed staring blankly at the wall. Which, admittedly, was also what the Winter Soldier was doing.

Eventually, the sound of voices reached him – coming ever closer. As it got close to the room he was in, Steve realised that he only recognised two of the voices, and there was a third one that he didn’t know.

He waited in anticipation to see what was going to appear. It wasn’t unheard of for members of the Avengers to bring new members to meetings, but it wasn’t exactly common either.

The first two people making their way into the room were the ones that Steve knew. Iron Man, the first one in, was the most familiar. The second person in was a man in a shoddy mask – the human version of the Hulk. The man still didn’t want them to know who he was, but given that his superpower only came out when his alter ego did, it made it difficult for him to hide it easily. (Plus Steve got the feeling that Iron Man and the Hulk knew exactly who the other was.)

The third figure was significantly smaller and skinnier than the other two. That was only a bit suspicious – not every superhero needed to be bulked up with muscle, Steve had to remind himself sometimes, but it did help.

And then Steve recognised the suit he was wearing. It was bright – garish, almost – and decorated in spider paraphernalia. It was Spiderman, the new hero he’d seen the other day on the news. Well, somehow that seemed unexpected, despite the fact that Steve should probably have known it might happen sooner or later.

Iron Man elbowed Spiderman in the side. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

It was difficult to tell with the mask and all, but Steve got the feeling that Spiderman wasn’t happy about being treated like that. Steve didn’t blame him – Iron Man tended to be brash and pushy, which was fine when they were actively fighting something, but not so great most of the rest of the time.

Spiderman appeared to look at Iron Man and back again at the rest of them. (That was only a little more worrying than his size had been. If each member of the team couldn’t make their own decisions in the moment, that was no good.)

“Uh – hi,” the man said, waving an awkward hand. Well, he didn’t sound like a hero – but then, he was fairly new. It was difficult to perfect that sort of thing right away. “Iron Man said that I could come meet you guys.”

Steve smiled. He sounded young, and insecure. “That’s fine,” he said, seeing no reason to make a fuss out of Spiderman being here. (Usually anyone else being brought in had to be brought up at a previous meeting so that everyone could agree that it was okay. Iron Man tended not to care about rules like that all that much.) “It’s nice to meet you.”

Thankfully, they sat down pretty quickly. There wasn’t a set time for the meeting to start, but the fact that Iron Man seemed to have intentionally made it so that they were going to be far too late irritated him.

“How has your week been, Iron Man?” Natasha started the meeting off, drawing Steve’s attention away from the guy’s metal suit. It seemed to Steve that she looked irritated, and that made him feel slightly vindicated.

Iron Man began to make some excuses about how he hadn’t been able to do any hero work because he’d been busy with his work. None of them knew exactly who he was in his day job, but they all had the knowledge that he had to be rich.

That wasn’t important right now though. Steve found himself drawn to the Winter Soldier, sat next to Natasha as he was, and it was like a magnet after that – he just couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He could see the way that he was staring at Spiderman – it was odd, almost, to think that the man would be so interested in someone else. Someone who had so much less experience than he did.

(Why wouldn’t the soldier pay that much attention to him?)

Steve swallowed. He couldn’t afford to dwell on it, not right now.

“What about your mission last week?” He heard Natasha ask. His ears perked up – now that was something he could actually participate in.

“Oh, I saw about that on the news,” Iron Man said. Even with the armour covering his entire body, he seemed like he was being smug about it. “Didn’t you totally fail or something?”

Steve felt the irritation rise in him – that itch to put Iron Man in his place. He opened his mouth to tell Iron Man how wrong he was –

“No, we just got attacked by something bigger,” the Winter Soldier growled. “They caught us off guard. None of us could have planned it.”

If Iron Man’s face had been showing, Steve was pretty sure he would have looked shocked. He knew his probably did – it wasn’t like the soldier spoke a lot during their meetings. In fact, Steve was pretty sure that was the most opinionated he’d heard the man be in all the time he had talked to him.

Natasha’s face showed no surprise – but then, she did know him the best.

“Right,” Iron Man said awkwardly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Yeah, it was really unexpected,” Quicksilver interjected. “It was insane though – you should have seen the way that Cap and the Winter Soldier fought it.”

The soldier looked at Steve momentarily, and they shared some awkward eye contact. Steve hadn’t meant to be looking at him already – he had only meant to look for a second, while he was speaking, and then… didn’t stop.

It didn’t look like the soldier minded though.

“You were the ones that fought it?” Natasha asked, turning her attention to him.

Steve shuffled under her gaze, ignoring the fact that the soldier was also still looking at him. This wasn’t his friend asking after him, he knew, this was Black Widow the superhero. She would only be concerned with his wellbeing as a teammate right now, and that was okay.

“Well yeah,” he admitted. “Mostly because we were the first ones to get to it though. It’s nothing to do with us leaving the others out.”

“And what form did this take? The papers reported very little of what you were actually fighting?” Natasha’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, and Steve was sure that she was wishing she’d come along to fight it now.

Glancing over at Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch, Steve realised that neither of them looked like they were about to answer that question. For all of Quicksilver’s bravado, Steve often forgot that they had only been doing this for a year or so, and that Natasha could be very intimidating, even in a non-threatening situation.

“It really was a monster,” Steve said. All eyes turned to him. “He was huge, and grey, and he seemed to be mindless in his urge to kill us.”

“And this is the thing that the news is calling an orc?” Natasha asked, leaning forward. Steve was about to answer, but then -

A scoffing sound came from the other end of the room. “Yeah, well I bet if I’d been there you would have won easily.”

Steve blinked. “I – but we did win?”

“Right.” Iron Man didn’t sound like he was entirely convinced by Steve’s argument, but he didn’t seem to be pushing it any longer.

He didn’t say anything more about it – and Steve would like to think that perhaps it was because of his good arguments, but he had a feeling that it was much more likely to be due to the glaring that was coming from the Winter Soldier. It was so difficult to tell, as usual, what the man was thinking, but it seemed like he was about to step up and defend him. While Steve would like to say that he could be threatening, he knew full well out of the two of them who was the more imposing.

It actually felt good to feel like the Winter Soldier was on his side.

It still didn’t make Steve like or trust him though.

The Hulk coughed. “So what was the plan for that mission? I know I missed the meeting when you talked about that one.”

It was refreshing to talk to the Hulk. Admittedly, his alter ego was less conversational, but still, the man had some good sense in him.

Steve explained the whole mission as simply as he could – he didn’t think that the Hulk would appreciate hyperactivity that Quicksilver would bring to the table. It seemed like he got most of it, maybe even more than Steve had. (He was willing to admit the fact that he had been brought along mostly because of being the muscle behind the operation, instead of being the brains. That wasn’t the case in all missions, but it wasn’t like he was going to deny his skills to someone who had spent their time figuring out what needed to be done.)

A few times Quicksilver did interject in, but only to explain the things that Steve hadn’t known himself. It was welcome enough.

By the time he was done, he got the feeling that the people who had been there were a little sick of hearing about all of it. Particularly as Steve pointed out their mistakes – something unavoidable, but still uncomfortable - he saw Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch looking like they’d rather be elsewhere.

He tried to not dwell on those parts.

There was very little sticking around after the meeting officially ended. Steve didn’t know whether Nat was going to want to talk to him – but then she walked out with the Winter Soldier. They weren’t quite arm in arm. It sort of seemed like it, though.

Steve wasn’t jealous. No, Nat was allowed to spend time with the Winter Soldier. That was fine. He didn’t need to think about what they were talking about.

Maybe Nat would tell him about it later, but maybe she wouldn’t.

He pushed himself back, and left the meeting, suddenly drained.

**

“I’m so glad you came by,” Steve said as he walked Natasha to the door. “I know you’re super busy, but it’s nice that we get to make time for each other.”

Natasha looked back at him over her shoulder, swinging her bright hair out of the way. “I’m glad too,” she said. Her limp wasn’t as pronounced as it had been before she came in here – she knew that if she needed to get a massage off of someone who wasn’t going to question why she was so stiff, Steve was a pretty good bet.

“And you promise you’ll stay out of trouble?” Steve said, opening the door. He grinned at her, so she knew that it wasn’t too serious.

Thankfully, she seemed to pick up on that. “I promise,” she said, faux-seriously. “No more monster fighting for me.”

It was a sad truth that Natasha’s unspoken wish from their last meeting had come true – she’d had a run in with the mysterious creature that Steve had fought those weeks ago. If only he’d been able to come help that time. (He did genuinely enjoy fighting side by side with Natasha. Even though they both had a tendency to throw themselves head first into danger. They were definitely not good influences on each other, fighting wise.) Alas though, he had been in work and hadn’t even known about it happening until it was well over.

“Good,” Steve said, opening the door wider. “I’ll see you next week?” It was a hopeful request, but one which he hoped he’d be able to keep her to.

She nodded. “I’ll try.” It was the best she could do. Steve understood how hectic her schedule was.

Steve stepped a little ways out into the hallway to say goodbye to Natasha properly. “Promise me you won’t disappear,” he said, pulling her into a hug.

“I will.”

“And if you need me – for anything else – “

“Just message you, I know, I know.” Natasha didn’t sound annoyed – but she did know well enough what he tended to say when he was saying goodbye.

He laughed. “Exactly.”

As he was letting Natasha go, he heard a door down the hall open. He tensed. He could see which one it was.

As he watched, Bucky stepped out of his own apartment.

“What’s wrong?” He heard Natasha whisper. Right. She could probably feel how tense he had gone.

He said nothing yet, but did let her go. She gave him a weird look – and he couldn’t get away with not telling her any longer. “It’s just my neighbour,” he said, trying to not look too awkward. Trying to stay calm.

As he spoke, he saw Bucky looking right at them. He did his best to smile.

Natasha span around to look – and Steve watched as she tensed up too. She was usually good at hiding those kinds of reactions, but Steve knew her well enough to know her tells.

“Your neighbour, you say?” She repeated, her voice tight.

Bucky looked like he was having a similar reaction, and Steve suddenly had no idea what was going on.

Natasha’s eyes flitted from Steve, to Bucky, and back again.

“Yes… I’m Steve’s neighbour,” Bucky said from all the way over there, inserting himself into the conversation.

Steve frowned. It sounded a little unnatural – and there seemed to be very little reason for him to be acting weird about telling the truth like that.

Natasha took a few steps towards Bucky. They looked a lot more confident than her words had been.

For a moment, they stared at each other. There was something going on that Steve had missed, he just knew it – but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Natasha said stiffly.

Bucky nodded in response. It was jerky, and while Steve didn’t get the feeling that it was insincere, the way that his eyes flicked between her and Steve made him feel like he was at least uncomfortable.

“How have you been?” Steve asked, taking control of the conversation. He hoped that perhaps it would make things a little less awkward between them all.

Bucky turned surprised eyes on him. “Uh – I’m fine,” he said. He went perfectly still, but there was something about the way that he was standing that suggested to Steve that if he had the choice, he would be squirming to get out of the conversation.

So he simply nodded. “Good.”

Natasha looked up at him, finally looking away from Bucky. It occurred to him now that perhaps it was a sign that she had sussed him out, had figured out the weird and complex relationship he and Bucky had been building. She usually picked up on everything like that pretty easily, it wasn’t like her to not be on the ball with that sort of thing.

As Bucky realised that he could just walk away and escape the conversation, Steve tried not to watch too blatantly. The fact that Natasha hadn’t started doing the same suggested that she wanted to talk to him about something, and he really couldn’t fault her for that.

Or could he? The more he thought about it, the more he realised that no, being interrogated by Natasha about something that he didn’t really understand himself didn’t actually sound like such a great idea.

Still the moment Bucky disappeared down the stairs, Natasha pounced.

“You didn’t tell me that that was who your neighbour was,” she said slowly, sounding like she was looking for some specific response. (It was like when they had first met, and she had been entirely distrusting.)

Steve frowned. “I wasn’t aware that I needed to,” he said. “I mean, we were focussing on your problems today. I thought that would be enough to keep us going until we see each other next.”

Now it was Natasha’s turn to look confused – but then comprehension seemed to dawn on her face. “Right, of course,” she said smoothly.

Another thing that he had missed.

“I’ll see you around, then,” she said, giving him a quick hug as though the last five minutes hadn’t happened.

Steve was fine with that. He hugged her back, wondering whether he should ask her about that later. Then, there were many things which she did that he never had any explanation for.

“See you soon.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was the screaming that made Steve look up from his work. He had been in the zone, entirely focussed on his work, and unbothered when all of his co-workers went over to the windows. This was New York, there was any number of things that could have enticed them over there.

The moment that the screaming started, though? That was the tipping point.

Leaving his computer, Steve wandered over to join them. Surely there couldn’t be anything –

Oh.

The maniacal laughter of the man running about on the street with some sort of freeze gun echoed around the office space. Steve could see the people down on the street being frozen in place as they attempted to run away. It didn’t seem like something that needed immediately fixing – not with something so neutral – but when he saw someone else, one of the passers-by, take something out of the pocket of one of the frozen.

Nope, there was no way he could let this slide.

Without hesitating, he headed away from the crowd of people and towards his desk.

Thankfully pretty much everyone was by the window already, so there wasn’t really anyone who was watching him as he walked in the opposite direction to the rest of them. He picked up anything he was going to feel weird about leaving out, and snuck down to where the lockers were.

Putting his valuables in his locker – he was going to come back soon, of course – he pulled out his duffel bag. It was light-ish, and it would do for what he needed to do.

Hoping this was going to work, he headed quickly for the men’s bathroom, hoping that he wasn’t going to look too much like he was desperate for the toilet. There was nobody around. Unsurprising, really.

This was really becoming all too common, he thought, as he began to undress. It was unpleasant to have to do this every time – but given that the alternative was to wear his suit underneath his clothes at all times ‘just in case’ (which he had tried, at the start, and found that the squeaking of the Kevlar tended to make people look at him weirdly), he tended not to take that as the best option.

Putting his suit on as quickly as he could, he kept thinking about how the longer it took him, the more time the villain would have to cause mayhem.

With that in mind he squeezed himself into his suit recklessly. The idea of all the mayhem that might be happening right now was practically making him hyperventilate – he knew that he needed to be able to do this quicker.

And the kicker to all of this was, of course, that he didn’t have his shield with him today. That was going to just have to be something which he dealt without.

He hurried out of the building at full tilt. The last thing he wanted was for his co-workers to get the feeling that Captain America worked in their building.

Fortunately, he saw literally nobody on his way out. They were all probably glued to the windows – about to see his appearance into the scene.

As he dashed out into the outside, he immediately felt how cold it was outside. The sun was out, it had been warm earlier – it was September, it shouldn’t be like this. No, this was something else that had caused the weather to get so bad. More specifically, Steve could see exactly what had caused it.

The man he had seen earlier was still stood in the middle of the street. He was wearing a big coat with a furry hood – it looked like he was probably warmer than the rest of the people on the street. A lot like he had planned to be in the cold soon.

There were more people around, still frozen, still cold. It didn’t look like anything bad had happened (so far), but Steve didn’t like the idea of leaving these people so frozen – he knew better than most just how bad being frozen for a significant period could be.

Steve deliberated whether he should deal with the problem at hand first – whether he needed to help the human snowmen on the sidewalk, or fight the man creating them.

The question was answered for him as the villain in question pointed his gun at another person. The blast of cold and ice that came out of the gun was white with frost, and made Steve worry for the person on the receiving end of that. There was no way that could be good for anyone.

“Oi!” Steve put his voice to use to get the attention of the guy – and, at the same time began to charge towards him.

He saw how the man turned around to face him. Being closer, and having that better look at him, Steve was sort of surprised to see that he also had dark goggles on – it was certainly a look, but an odd one for the middle of the day on a regular street…

The man smirked. “Well, out of all the heroes I could have had to come confront me, if just had to be you.”

Well that was an unusual response. Steve was slightly stumped by it – usually the people he fought were a bit more concerned by the fact that he’d come to stop what they were doing.

Clenching his fists in lieu of holding his shield, Steve marched towards him, hoping that he wasn’t about to get shot with the freeze gun.

A shooting motion of _cold_ shot past his arm, narrowly missing him. He just about registered the fact that the car to his side was suddenly covered in icicles.

That didn’t stop him from giving the guy a good whack with his shield.

The freeze gun didn’t drop from the guy’s grip, but there was an audible crack.

“Well that’s just rude,” the man said. Weirdly he sounded mostly bemused by the whole thing.

That unsettled Steve more than if he’d just been angry.

Dropping the shield, he went in for a punch. The guy ducked, but not fast enough. The sunglasses were knocked from his head, and shattered on the floor.

“Hey, I liked those,” the guy said lightly, ignoring the punch.

Right – that was probably because he then went ahead and punched Steve right back. It didn’t do much, but it was a valiant effort.

Then Steve noticed that the guy was reaching for his freeze gun again, and dived for his shield.

It was his shield that took the brunt of the blast – Steve felt the metal turn cold.

Well, it was good for that, at least.

Steve didn’t feel that worried – until he heard the freeze gun go off again, and he got back up immediately.

There was another person stood frozen there.

And that was one step too far.

This time, Steve used his shield decisively – one blow to the head, and one blow to the gun in his hands.

With the man knocked down, and the freeze gun in pieces, Steve felt reasonably confident that he

Steve stumbled back into the bathroom on weary legs. He might have a lot of strength, but limitless energy was one thing he didn’t have. Until he had the opportunity to eat, and have some energy put back into him, he’d be kinda useless for the rest of the day.

Slowly sliding his regular clothes back on, and vowing to not forget to take his suit to be cleaned, Steve mentally prepared himself to go back upstairs.

By the time he got back up there, it seemed like a lot of the hype had died down. People were still wandering around, and it still had that ‘something extra has just happened and nobody quite knows what to think of it’ feeling in the air, but otherwise there was nothing unusual going on.

In fact, nobody seemed to have noticed that he had been gone. Even Peggy was too busy talking to Daniel to pay him any attention. That was probably a good thing – something he had to remind himself of far too often.

The only person that he thought seemed to have noticed that something was amiss was Fury’s secretary/assistant, Gary. Steve could see him staring at him from across the room, a puzzled look on his face. Admittedly, that seemed to be the way he usually was, but he was extra confused today.

Maybe if Steve pretended like nothing strange had gone on, he’d be able to get away with it. Smiling at Gary, Steve turned away before Gary could have time to think about it too much.

For the rest of the day, Steve mostly just did his best to look like he was concentrating in some capacity. The actual amount of work that he did was… negligible, but it was there. He promised.

Thankfully nobody seemed to notice. Everybody was still busy talking about how a real life superhero had been so close to their office, and did you _see_ his muscles, and his suit, and he didn’t even have his shield with him!

Part of Steve felt that smug dramatic irony of the fact that these people didn’t even know who they were talking in the presence of. The other part of him was just glad that he was popular enough that he didn’t have to worry about overhearing something that would upset him

Finally having made his way to the end of the day, Steve dragged his tired body up the stairs. He’d be lying if he said that he was in an entirely good mood – really all he wanted to do was to dive into bed and try to regain some of his energy.

He was nearly there, just grabbing onto the handle –

“Steve?”

Turning around, he saw Bucky there. He was stood at the door to his apartment, like he had just got back himself. He also looked like he had a lot more energy than Steve, and part of him felt sort of jealous about that.

“Yeah?” He asked, hoping that he wasn’t going to have to answer any difficult questions. He wouldn’t have the energy to make any real attempt at conversation, and this would be even worse with the fact that he would be talking to Bucky.

Steve’s heart sped up as Bucky came closer. The other frowned, and Steve could see him staring at his face.

“You look tired…” Bucky said, squinting at him.

Without thinking about it too much, Steve nodded. Somehow having it pointed out only made him feel more tired again, and suddenly a tiredness headache came upon him.

Closing his eyes briefly, he tried to not feel like he’d been run over by a truck. Then he jumped – a hand had landed on his shoulder, sliding to squeeze his upper arm. Every inch of skin that Bucky touched tingled, feeling happy that Bucky had touched it –

Wait, no. That was weird. Steve’s eyes snapped open. Bucky was right up close to him. Steve could _smell_ him (it was ridiculously good – what cologne was he using?), and he couldn’t help but breathe it in like a creep.

It was only when he realised that he was legit staring into Bucky’s eyes that he realised that something unusual was going on here. Bucky didn’t seem to be protesting too much either, looking pretty much as unfocussed as Steve was. At least, until he appeared to shake himself out of whatever stupor he’d just fallen into.

“Uh – take it easy, yeah? Have some tea, or… something,” Bucky said, pulling his hand away from Steve quickly. Not quite like it burned – more like he had just realised exactly what he had done.

(Steve ignored the part of him that wanted to tell Bucky to put his hand back.)

“I will.”

Bucky smiled at him – the one that Steve had grown used to, the small, shy one which only endeared him more to Steve. “Have a good day,” he said, turning away.

Steve realised after he’d watched Bucky walk away that he hadn’t even asked what had happened to make Steve so tired. It was refreshing to know that he wasn’t going to have to worry about explaining it away as just a long day at work, like he had to with all his other neighbours.

He headed on in to his apartment.

(His shoulder still felt warm. The leftovers of Bucky’s touch just out of reach in his memory.)

**

He woke up slowly two days after that. Soreness till in his muscles, he stretched them out, trying to make them not hurt.

“Why did I not take yesterday off,” he muttered to himself. He thought that he was going to be fine going into work, since he had been every other time, but for some reason this time…

He winced as his leg cramped up. That hadn’t been something that he had anticipated happening – not when he usually bounced back from missions like that so easily.

Maybe it had been the cold getting to him. The way that it had swarmed over his entire body, messing it up for the time being.

Either way, all he knew was that he had been tenser than anything for the past two days.

Then he registered a gentle knocking at the door. Not loud enough to have been what woke him up, but loud enough that he could hear it now that he was awake.

He groaned. Standing up was about the last thing that he wanted to be doing right now, but duty called.

Pulling on his robe, he made his way over to the front door. His muscles protested as he did so, but still, he wanted to get there. It was, perhaps, more of a toll than he wanted, but he did it anyway.

And then he was glad that he did. As it turned out, it was Natasha stood there, looking rather downtrodden, and worriedly Steve opened the door for her. “Are you okay?” He asked, stepping close to her. “Do you need my help?”

Eyes wide, Natasha shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said, seeming surprised that Steve was concerned for her. “No, it’s you I’m worried about.”

Right. That made sense.

He opened the door for her so she could come in. If they were going to talk about that, best not to do it in public. Looking ever so slightly less worried, Natasha walked into the apartment. It was unusual to see her looking so worried, about anything – for most of the time, she at least pretended like everything was fine, and that there was no need to worry about anything.

The second the door closed behind them, he received a hit to the back of the head. “Ow,” he said, turning around to look balefully at Natasha. His friend stayed impassive, unimpressed.

“What did you think you were doing, not asking for backup like that?” She hissed.

Steve frowned. “What?” He asked. “Do you not think I can stand to handle a bad guy on my own, or something?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. Turning around so that she could sink into the couch, she made herself at home, like she usually did. “You know that’s not it, asshole. You know how dangerous that guy could have been – did you not think to call for backup? Or even tell us that you were going to be doing some hero work?”

Right. She had some points there. He shrugged. “I didn’t think about that,” he said, voice small.

“That’s right,” Natasha said, sounding like a scolding mom. “You didn’t think, but you should have done.”

“I know,” Steve said, deflating a little. “I’m sorry.” He felt bad about having not let his friend know that he was in danger – because, to be fair, as the only person who knew his secret identity, she would have to be the one to deal with the aftermath if he did die like that.

In an attempt to make things up to her, Steve went to get them food. He hadn’t expected to be having one of his tea and cakes sessions, but he was prepared for it nonetheless.

Natasha seemed to appreciate it, at least. “So what did the guy want?” She asked him once they were settled in with their food.

He shrugged. “I’m not even completely sure,” he said, taking a bite of cake. “He mostly just seemed to be enjoying the process, really.”

Natasha seemed to contemplate this for a while. Admittedly, it was an odd way to look at things, but it did sort of make sense. It didn't often happen, but they did sometimes come across people whose only object was to cause as much damage as possible. There had even been some who simply wanted to get their attention, because they thought it would make them look cool or something. Either way, they hadn't not had this before.

After Natasha had successfully grilled Steve on what it had been like to fight the guy (despite what she had said, Steve got the feeling that part of her really did wish that she could have been there to fight him. She always enjoyed a challenge - that was really more her thing than his), their conversation took a turn to talking about what Natasha had been spending her time doing.

"And when I infiltrated it, I saw a monster lying on the floor," she said, face serious. "I know I wasn't there when you lot fought the monster but I swear it looked just like your description, only a lot deader."

Steve frowned. “It's not impossible that he could have gotten to there..." He said doubtfully. "But I don't think that it's been long enough for it to have got very dead just yet? Exactly how dead was it?"

Natasha gave a theatrical shudder. "We're talking skin hanging off, and parts of it turning green," she said, making a disgusted face. "I didn't get too near, don't get me wrong, but it was visible from a long way away."

"Do... do you think they could have more than one of them?" Steve asked. It was a worrying thought. "Wait, was that place even remotely linked to the place that we went to?"

Shaking her head, Natasha said, "I don't even know. I didn't think it did, but at the same time I think it might have done, you know?"

Nodding, Steve was about to reply that it was weird, when -

A knocking at the door disturbed him out their conversation. When Natasha gave him an odd look, he got up, tense, and made his way over to the door. There was always the chance that it could just be a neighbour asking to borrow something, but their conversation had got him in a paranoid mood.

He opened the door. On the other side was Bucky, looking cheerful, and holding a small box. "I brought you these," Bucky said before Steve could so much as say hi. He thrust the box at him. "I thought after the bad day you had the other day you could do with something to cheer you up, and... I wanted to bring them in person."

Steve's heart clenched. "Thank you," he said, trying to keep himself in check. "That's very kind of you." Thankfully none of the uwus he could feel emanating from himself actually came out. That would be bad.

Bucky smiled. "I -"

Then his expression fell. Steve could see that his eyes were fixed on something behind him, in the apartment, and he turned around, thinking that perhaps he had messed up and left some of his Captain America equipment out and Bucky had seen it -

Oh. It was just Natasha. She was sat drinking from her small china cup (where had she even gotten that from? Steve hadn't given her that, and he was pretty sure it wasn't something that he even owned) like nothing was amiss. Even when she looked up and saw them both looking at her, she smiled like there was nothing strange going on.

Steve turned back to Bucky, wondering if he was maybe going to get some sort of explanation this time.

"I guess I’d better get going," Bucky said. The smile that he gave Steve looked slightly sad, and Steve wanted nothing more than to find out how to get his smile fixed but by that point he was already too far away -

He turned away, back towards his apartment, and closed the door.

"Well that was nice of him," Natasha said, putting her cup down. "What did he bring you?"

Numbly, Steve lifted the box - that he'd pretty much forgotten that he was still holding - and lifted the lid. Inside there were two cupcakes, iced to perfection with white and pink frosting swirled together.

Natasha stood up and came to peer inside the box with him. "They look good," she said. "Do you think he made them with love?"

Steve's head snapped back up. he narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?" He asked, suddenly deeply suspicious again.

She looked up at him, clearly trying to look as innocent as possible. "Just that he seems to like you, is all," she said.

Steve sighed. "I guess he does... I dunno," he said, shrugging. "What - what do you think?"

It was an odd turn for their conversation, even given the fact that it was normal for them to talk about personal life things with each other.

Natasha bit her lip, tapping her fingernail against the side of the box. "I can't tell you," she said finally.

Steve blinked. "What do you mean? What's so special about it that you can't even tell me?"

"I can't explain it..." She said, looking like there was something that she wanted to say, but had been cursed to not say it or something. (Actually, in their line of work that actually wouldn't be too crazy of an explanation.)

"Has he threatened you?" Steve said kindly. He liked Bucky, but not as much as he liked his friends - in the hierarchy of importance, his friends would always come first, no matter what. If he needed to, he would -

Natasha shook her head. "No, nothing like that," she said, seeming to pull herself together somewhat. "I just -" she shook her head again. "You should ask him out."

"I should?" Steve asked, trying to make some sort of sense of this conversation. "What...?"

"Only if you want to, of course," Natasha amended. "I don’t mean to force you into it. But I think - in my professional opinion - that if you asked him on a date, he'd say yes."

"You think it would be a good idea?" Steve asked, thinking of the odd and cagey manner the two of them seemed to have about it. The odd reaction they'd had the last time they met should have been enough to make Steve think twice about making any kind of deep relationship with the man, just based on the fact that Natasha knew him.

She nodded. "I think it could be good for both of you." She hesitated. "I just... still can't tell you why. I’d have to let him do that."

Steve sighed. "I supposed I can accept that." It wasn't that Natasha’s idea of who it was a good idea to spend her time with was bad, it was just... she often liked to hang out with people who were morally grey in the way that Steve didn't like so much. Spies, like her, people who toed the line. It could be argued that he did the same thing, but usually Steve liked to think of himself as beyond that sort of thing, someone better than that.

But then, it was possible that Bucky was toeing that same line.

"I’ll do it later," he said, not wanting to have it keep the two of them from their normal conversations for much longer.

Natasha fixed him with one of her stares. "You'd better," she said. "If you're going to do it, don't procrastinate. You know how these things can end if you don't."

Clint. Right.

But Steve refused to let himself feel bad about something that had happened a long time ago.

He nodded. "Yeah, I promise I will." And he wasn't just saying it because he wanted Natasha to feel better about everything, or because he didn't want to make things awkward after they'd just acknowledged that Bucky had gone out of his way to get Steve cupcakes. He said it because he wanted to - because some of those emotions that had been swirling around inside him every time he thought about the other man made sense when reframed in that way.

The rest of their afternoon passed a little less dramatically. Natasha began to tell him an entirely different story, one which didn't link to any of their shared missions at all, one where she was trying to figure out who iron man was. It was a futile mission, one which Steve knew that she shouldn't be taking - they'd all agreed at the beginning to not go searching for each other's identities - but it was too fun to speculate. She showed him a bunch of articles which were on the subject - it didn't seem like she was looking too deeply into it, which made Steve feel slightly better about the whole thing. It seemed like a lot of them - or some, at least, were convinced that it was a man called ray palmer. It was almost frustrating that he didn't know the answer himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve stretched the moment he got outside. He didn’t know what it was about the sun that always made him feel so much better, but he just did, every time. it really was a joy to come out here, and have his daily dose of vitamin d.

Okay, and the rucksack over his shoulder containing his suit. He didn't have to bring his suit with him everywhere - it wasn't like he was contractually obligated to do superhero work everywhere he went - but he liked having it on him just in case. In times where he hadn't been able to get changed, and so hadn't been able to do anything... well, he usually ended up feeling bad afterwards, despite knowing that there was nothing he could have done, and that it wasn't his fault.

It wasn't even like he was going on patrol, either. He wasn't _looking_ for trouble, so to speak... but if it found him (as it often did) he wouldn’t want to miss out.

Trying to not look too hard like he was keeping an eye out for anything, he set off down the street. He had vague plans of just taking a stroll, working out some of the lingering soreness, and enjoying being able to feel like he was doing good in the world.

He hadn't walked very far before he got a hankering to get coffee. He didn't get some every time, but he often did, if nothing else but to look like he actually had something to be doing outside. Just in case someone was watching him.

Besides, he'd passed three coffee shops already and every time the smell made his heart go wild. And so he indulged himself, even though he knew that it wouldn't really do much for him other than taste really good.

Instead of choosing to sit inside and drink it, he immediately headed back out the moment he had the hot cup in his hands. If he was going to do this, he was still going to make sure that he stuck to what he was meaning to do.

Making it another block further, he was about to cross the road, when the sounds of... metal on metal found him.

He frowned. Unless someone was partaking in some re-enacting, he doubted that there would be any good reason for him to be hearing that.

It didn't seem like anyone else could hear it - at least, he couldn't see any reactions from the people around him - and so he turned as casually as he could, trying not to let himself tense up, and tried to follow the sounds.

Sometimes they stopped, and devolved into regular fighting sounds. But Steve still couldn't be sure that he couldn't help with whatever it was that he was hearing.

If nothing else, he definitely had a habit of involving himself in other people's fights.

Then, as he got closer to where the sounds were coming from, there were more and more people making their way there too, interested in whatever they were going to see.

Steve rounded a corner, the sounds getting louder and louder and now there were the sounds of voices too, and -

There was the Winter Soldier, fighting furiously with a man dressed in all black. For a moment Steve thought that everything would be fine - after all, he'd seen the solder in action, he definitely didn't need anyone else's help, like, ever.

But then Steve saw him falter. He couldn't hear what the other man was saying to him, it was too quiet for even his ears to pick up, but it looked like it was causing the soldier some trouble.

There was no time to deliberate. The soldier could always refuse his help, but he had to do _something_.

Turning around, he ran, looking for somewhere, _anywhere_ where he could change in secret. There were only so many good places that he could try to use (he'd never actually gotten caught with his pants down, but there had been a time when a potential mugger had tried to get the best of him in the middle of things), but he'd gotten quite good at spotting them over the years.

Soon enough, he noticed an alleyway, small and dark and perfect. He almost hadn't seen it himself - hopefully nobody would notice it either.

In some ways, it was almost easier to put his suit on indoors, since it didn't restrict him much at all. If it weren't for the fear of getting caught, he'd probably always get changed outside, he thought.

Putting his regular clothes in the rucksack, he made sure that he had his valuables on him before tucking it away out of sight. At least this way if it got taken, he would still have the things that mattered.

How ironic, he thought, that he was going to fight without his shield for a second time in a row. Hopefully it wouldn't become a regular occurrence.

Finally deeming himself ready, he sped out of the alleyway, well aware that the longer he took, the likelier it was going to be that the soldier needed his help. The breeze that he made as he ran seemed to startle people - although maybe it was just surprise at seeing another superhero on the scene.

Finally able to run at his top speed, he made it there in about half the time it had taken him to get to the alleyway. Muscles burning in the good exercise way, Steve felt like all his senses had been heightened again, like they usually did when running a mission.

He didn't need any special senses to see what was going on at the scene, though.

The Winter Soldier was lying face down on the ground. His head was turned towards Steve, and he could see the way that his face almost looked slack, like he was losing control of his body. And the fact that the other man, his attacker, was stood over him in a triumphant pose, one leg on either side of the soldier's body, let Steve know that he definitely was doing something dodgy.

With a shout, Steve charged towards them. There was an immediate response from the man stood over the Winter Soldier - he whipped towards Steve, the triumphant expression on his face fading somewhat. It was almost amusing to see, but still, Steve couldn't help but worry about the soldier underneath him. He hadn't responded at all to the fact that Steve was there, and that didn't seem right.

As a first move, Steve wasn't bothered about going for anything fancy. Using his momentum, he pushed the attacker from his position - really a foolish position to begin with, something he should have thought about.

The man went sprawling on the floor, but made no move to attack Steve himself.

That in itself was a worrying sign. For the first time, Steve began to wonder whether this had been a targeted attack on the Winter Soldier, instead of the Winter Soldier finding the man in the middle of crime. That would change the game somewhat.

Feebly, the Winter Soldier rolled over so that he was face up. The domino mask he was still wearing covered his expressions, but his eyes stared up balefully, looking past Steve at something that wasn't there.

There was almost certainly nothing he could do, Steve realised. There was something else at play here, and there was no way he'd be able to cure the soldier by himself.

And so he turned his attention to the man who had been attacking him. He was still lying down, looking rather like someone who wanted to pretend to be injured. As he did, he noticed that some of their watchers had dispersed already. There wasn't enough action for them, he supposed. Well, they weren't there to be their performing monkeys

They didn’t have to stay.

Steve grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck. He'd been wondering whether he'd knocked the man out or something, but the moment Steve got a good look at his face, he could see that he had been fully awake and alert the whole time.

The man's legs danced a little as they tried to find purchase on the ground - and the moment they did, the smirk came back. "You'll never get him back," he whispered. "You're too late."

Steve's blood ran cold. He didn't like the soldier all that much, but that didn't mean that he wanted to lose another teammate...

"What do you mean by that?" He demanded, shaking the man a little.

He shook his head, looking like he was having the time of his life instead of being caught red handed by Steve.

From that point, he refused to say anything else. It was sort of a nightmare for Steve - a situation he couldn’t solve with force. no, for this one, he needed brains.

Knocking the man out for good measure, and binding his hands and feet just in case he woke up, he went to get his phone out of his suit. he needed to call Natasha.

The call itself was short. Unsurprisingly, Natasha had already known about what was going on, and had simply been waiting for Steve to call her and give his version of events. Judging by the news van which had turned up already, he suspected that her 'source' might simply have been her tv.

Kneeling down beside the soldier, Steve wondered what the best course of action was going to be. He'd called Natasha because she knew the soldier best, but he didn’t' know _how_ well she knew him. Would she even know whatever drug the man had used to knock out the soldier?

While he waited for Natasha to arrive, he made himself useful by trying to get any kind of reaction out of the soldier. He tried poking him, shaking him, talking to him, _shouting_ at him... but none of it worked. He was definitely still alive - Steve checked his pulse a few times just to be sure - but whatever the man had done had sent him into some kind of trance. it was unsettling.

Perhaps it would have been easier to get a gauge of what was going on if the soldier didn't have his mask on - but that would be so far outside the boundaries of 'okay to do to another superhero' that Steve didn't even entertain the idea. No, he could wait for the person who had (probably) already seen the soldier's face.

Their spectators seemed to find it unsettling too. Steve watched as they left one by one, seeming not entertained enough at the mere spectacle of having of having two avengers on the scene. None of them tried to help, either. Because clearly they weren’t people who might have needed help.

It only took ten minutes for Natasha to arrive on the scene. Steve had never quite been able to figure out where she lived - she never seemed to be far away from where she was needed. And the one time he had been to hers (mostly by accident), she told him the day after that she had moved.

"How is he?" She asked as she strode towards him.

"Non-responsive," Steve replied. "That guy-" he pointed at the attacker, who was still tied up and unconscious "-was talking to him when I first saw them, and then when I got back from putting my suit on he was down. He could have done anything in that time, but I don't know what."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Did you think to ask any of the people watching what happened?"

Steve's heart sank into his stomach. "I - I was busy making sure the Winter Soldier was okay?" He said, trying to remember what he had been thinking this whole time. "Could we ask some of the people here?" He asked hopefully.

Then he actually looked around. The only people he could really see were just milling around like nothing was going on. They'd missed their window.

Shaking her head, Natasha pulled out her phone. "Let's see what we can find online."

Steve watched in anticipation and worry as Natasha began to search up... whatever it was she knew she needed to be looking for. The more that the soldier didn’t move, the less that Steve worried that something was going to go wrong right now - but the more he worried that the damage had already been done.

Natasha began to frown at her phone. Steve could only imagine what horrors she was seeing on there, what horrific things might have been done to the soldier in the time that he had been gone.

"I know what to do to fix him," she said not long after. looking up at Steve determinedly, she stood up. "It's all going to be okay. don't worry." It almost looked like she was amused with him, and Steve realised that he probably looked pretty worried still. Right, he wasn't meant to like the Winter Soldier at all.

He stood up too. "Good," he said, coughing a little. "What help do you need?"

She shook her head. "Don't need any." Bending down, she hefted the solider over her shoulder.

Steve had to fight to not gape. It wasn't like he hadn't already known how strong Natasha was, but somehow this seemed like another level entirely - particularly with that metal arm being on the soldier. He had to be so heavy, even if she was as strong as him.

But he couldn't offer to help, either. He nodded at her, and said, "okay, cool. Let me know if I can help in any way."

She smiled at him. "I will."

Steve watched as she walked away like she was carrying nothing heavier than feathers. Incredible.

It then occurred to him that there were still plenty of people around, watching him. There was nothing worse than being made a spectacle of when he wasn't doing anything worthy of that, and he sped off to go get back to regular life.

**

For the rest of that day, Steve rested. It had taken it out of him to have his limits tested like that, and he needed to be able to process what had happened to his acquaintance.

The day after, though? After work, he realised very suddenly that he hadn't done anything about Bucky, yet. He didn't want to leave it too long, in case Bucky thought that he'd scared him off with his cupcakes or something.

And that was how Steve found himself sat on his couch, thinking about how he was going to word this.

'Hi please go out with me' probably wasn't going to go over too well, he thought. Maybe something more like 'I’ve liked you for a while and I think you like me too -' no, that sounded too forceful. What about 'go on a date with me no pressure lol'. It wasn't all that romantic, but the more Steve tried to think though the words, the more he realised that he really had no idea what he was going to say.

And, more importantly, the more he deliberated over it, the more time he was wasting.

Putting his face in his hands for a moment, he forced himself to face the fact that he was going to have to just go over there and hope for the best.

Almost dissociating as he made his way over to stand outside Bucky's apartment, Steve tried to get some semblance of words in order. That would at least help.

He knocked.

Well, that was part of the nerve-wracking bit over. Now to wait.

Scuffing end toe of his shoe on the floor, he wondered whether he should have dressed up for this. He was wearing what he'd thrown on after getting back from work, and it was very casual. Extremely so. Should he have made more of an effort? Would this look too much like he didn't care?

He looked up at Bucky's door. More importantly, did he have time to go home and change quickly?

No, Bucky would be answering the door any minute now. He didn't have time for that.

He bit his lip as he waited. and kept waiting.

Then he knocked again, just for good measure.

It probably took at least three full minutes before Steve realised that Bucky probably wasn't coming to the door after all.

Well, he rationalised to himself, Bucky was allowed to be out of his apartment. Steve had seen him come and go at all times of the day, and there was no reason for him to not be in right now.

Disappointed, he turned away and went back to his own apartment. He could feel the adrenaline fading away unused - it wasn't exactly a comfortable feeling.

He would try again tomorrow, he resolved. This would happen - Bucky couldn't be out every day.

Meaning to get up early and go talk to Bucky in the morning, Steve set his alarm that night to be half an hour earlier than he normally would.

His intentions were good - but, as his alarm went off that morning, he rolled over sleepily to turn it off - and promptly went back to sleep. He awoke an hour later, and ended up only just making it to work on time (and narrowly avoiding another lecture from Gary.)

There had been no time to talk to Bucky that morning - in fact, he only remembered about the fact that he had been about to ask Bucky out when he was already in the office, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Well, technically if he got really desperate he could text him, but... when had that ever been romantic?

He spent the whole day distracted. It was very difficult to focus on the client's needs when all he could think about was Bucky.

It was the fact that this wasn't even abnormal that made him realise that yeah, he probably had made the right decision in asking him out. Steve could just picture the excited face he would (hopefully) make when Steve finally asked him.

By the time he got home, Steve was ready. He’d had more time to think about it now – and, just so that he could prove to Natasha that he was doing something about it, he texted her before going over.

‘It didn’t work out yesterday, but I’m going over to Bucky’s today to ask him out! I told you I’d do it’

Almost instantly he could see that she’d read the message, but she didn’t respond. That was okay – he didn’t need her to tell him that this was the right thing to do. He already knew that.

All that remained to do was to go do the deed.

He set off to go out to Bucky’s apartment. The hallway was deserted, as it often was, and it almost made him uneasy to think that everyone was going to be able to hear their conversation if Bucky didn’t invite him in. It would be worth any eavesdropping to get his chance at dating Bucky.

Only feeling a little déjà vu from yesterday, he knocked on Bucky’s door.

There was a faint noise – Steve tensed, but by the time he had he had already realised that it had come from a different apartment.

He waited for a little longer – he knocked a few more times, too – but nothing was forthcoming. Clearly Bucky wasn’t in again.

It made Steve realise how much he still didn’t know about the other man. He was still interested in him, it didn’t change that, but… he didn’t have any idea where Bucky might be right now. He had seen Bucky around a few times, sure, but he didn’t know what places Bucky actually liked to go.

The thought only made him more determined to get to know Bucky better. Maybe he wasn’t going to get to do those things today, but he would keep trying until he succeeded.

He spent the rest of his evening with the sound on his tv turned low, listening out for the sound of Bucky getting home. It never came.

He tried again the next day – and it went exactly the same. For the first time, it disappointed him properly. It was beginning to feel like Bucky was avoiding him. he’d been trying to think about what he could possibly have done to offend him

Afterwards, he tried texting Natasha about it – she still hadn’t replied to the text that he had sent the other day, which didn’t seem like a big deal until she ended up not responding to the second one either.

He didn’t want to believe that the two were linked. No, it must just be a coincidence. Even if they did know each other, it was likely that Natasha had simply gone on a mission and forgotten to tell him about it. And Bucky… well, he was allowed to have a life outside of Steve.

The day after that, Steve didn’t try going to Bucky’s at all. He’d give the man a chance at getting home with the extra day (and he definitely wasn’t afraid that Bucky really didn’t want to talk to him).

During the work day he tried to not think about Bucky too much. (It was hard, but he thought that he mostly managed it. He only accidentally zoned out like five times.)

It meant that when Peggy came up to him and told him that he was going to come to lunch with her, he didn’t protest too much.

“So where are we going?” Steve asked amiably as they walked.

Peggy shrugged. “I’m not sure yet,” she said, “I figured we could just pick somewhere that looks nice.”

Sure enough, they somehow managed to. Despite both of them having worked in the place for a while now, there were so many eateries around it that Steve sometimes felt he’d never have enough time to eat at them all.

“So how have you been, Pegs?” Steve asked, once they were sat down in the diner. It was said with a slight tinge of guilt – he’d been so busy recently that he really hadn’t had time to catch up with Peggy properly recently. It was a true travesty.

Peggy went on to explain how infuriating one of her clients was, and how she had had to spend far too much time changing the design on several whims, and Steve found himself enjoying even that.

Their food arrived, and Steve found himself too busy eating to worry about talking himself – there was no time to waste. Even Peggy took a small break from complaining to eat while she could.

“What’s been up with you, then?” Peggy asked when they’d eaten most of what they could. “I’ve been talking about myself for a while.”

Steve thought about it for a moment. There really wasn’t anything exciting going on with work for him to talk about, not like Peggy had. That wouldn’t do for a topic of conversation… but there was something else that would work. “So there’s this guy that I’ve been trying to ask out,” Steve said.

“Oh, really?” Peggy said. She leaned forward in her seat, sandwich suddenly less interesting.

Steve coughed. “Yeah, uh… he’s my neighbour, but he keeps being out whenever I try to go ask him.” It sounded even more ridiculous when he tried to explain the situation out loud.

He ended up telling Peggy all the details of their interactions, with her convinced that there had to have been something that Steve did, some reason for Bucky avoiding him.

“But he can’t be avoiding me – I’m sure that I haven’t heard him about for the past few days,” Steve argued,

“People don’t just disappear, Steve,” Peggy berated him, “there has to be more of a reason for it.”

“I think you’ve just watched too many true crime documentaries, Pegs,” Steve said, laughing.

“I was shortlisted for a job at MI6, I’ll have you know,” Peggy said, turning her nose away dramatically.

Steve nodded very seriously. “Oh yes, I forgot.” He’d never been able to tell whether Peggy was serious about that – he could absolutely believe it, but it also didn’t explain why she was here working in a graphics company.

They might have talked for longer, but for the fact that they were running out of time to get back to the office. The idea of getting any further on Gary’s bad side was… unappealing.

The question of what to do about Bucky dangled over his head even when they weren’t talking about it, though. tTere seemed to be no obvious answer though, and even talking about it with Peggy didn’t make it the solution any clearer.

That only left him Friday to try again. By then, he was still sure that he would be happy to ask Bucky out properly – but he was also more nervous about being rejected than he had been before as well.

As he put on his semi-fancy clothes again that evening, he began to rethink himself a little. What if Bucky really was just trying to be friendly, and neighbourly? If he was just trying to make friends, would Steve trying to make it into something more make it weird for him? He didn’t want to accidentally make things much worse than they needed to be.

Sure, Natasha had said that he’d be into it, but… what if he wasn’t?

Plus he could only hope that Natasha’s encouragement was a sign that Bucky was in fact attracted to men.

No. He couldn’t afford to think about these things right before he was about to do it. He needed all the confidence he could get.

Sending another ‘I’m going to ask Bucky out now’ text to Natasha for good measure, he then stood up. He knew that she wouldn’t reply by this point, but it made him feel slightly better that he had tried.

Somehow feeling less ready than he had the last time, he adjusted his clothes one last time before leaving.

It was familiar, this time, as he went to stand outside of Bucky’s apartment.

Half expecting for this to not work – but also unsure what he was going to do if Bucky didn’t turn up either – he knocked on the door anyway.

He stared at the floor almost immediately afterwards. The chances of Bucky being home were low, and he barely bothered to listen out for any kind of movement. Already feeling the disappointment that was sure to come once Bucky didn’t open the door, he –

“Yeah?” Bucky’s face peered out the crack he had made in between the door and the doorframe.

Steve stared at him. “Bucky?”

Bucky blinked. “I – yeah? Steve?”

All of Steve’s plans for a speech he had made vanished. “Go on a date with me?”

Bucky’s face went blank. Steve’s heart fell. Then, “sure.”

Steve felt like he was dreaming. “Really?” He asked, entirely unable to formulate anything else.

Bucky opened the door a little more. “I’d like to, yeah,” he said. His face was impassive, but his voice gave him away.

“I – great,” Steve said, trying to conceal some of the relief he was feeling. “When – when do you want to go?”

Bucky appeared to think about that for a second. “I’m not sure,” he said finally, “I’ll get back to you on that.

Steve was about to protest that Bucky didn’t have any way of contacting him – it wasn’t like they’d spoken often enough before to have exchanged numbers – when Bucky’s hand snaked out and placed a piece of paper in his palm.

Then he closed the door.

Steve stared down at the paper. It was folded in several places, looking like it had been folded and unfolded numerous times, and also like it had spent a lot of time in Bucky’s pocket. In between the folds there was a phone number.

That evening, Steve went home and plugged it into his phone – but he was determined to wait, to see what Bucky would say.

Instead, he messaged Peggy about it – he figured she deserved as much, since she’d listened to him rant so much earlier.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, if this chapter feels off, it's because i started writing this fic back in may, and there were about two months in between me polishing up all the other chapters, and me finishing this chapter and the epilogue - so honestly i'm not sure how i wanted the ending conversation to go, and i don't really like how it's turned out but i don't have the energy or motivation to make it any better

The day after, Steve received a phone call from Natasha. He answered it with only a slight amount of suspicion.

“Yeah?” he said.

Natasha coughed down the line. “So I hear you finally did it,” she said.

“…Yes,” Steve replied, “I tried to tell you about it at the time.” He tried to not get frustrated. It wasn’t like Nat to do things for no reason. She always had a plan – it was sort of her shtick.

There was silence down the line for a moment. Then, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you at the time.” She did sound genuinely disappointed about that – and although Natasha had a habit of lying, and she was good at it, Steve didn’t think that this was one of those cases.

“I know,” Steve said.

He would have liked to say more. But was there anything more to say about the situation? They’d acknowledged everything that needed to be. Plus – what with Nat ignoring him for the past week, he wasn’t sure he wanted to give her more information.

They stayed on the line, silently, for a moment longer.

“I’m happy for you,” Nat said. It sounded genuine – and Steve found himself softening.

“Thanks,” he said. “Uh – how was the mission you were on?”

He was assuming that that was where she had been. Usually if she had disappeared, that was the reason.

“It was okay,” she said. “I won’t tell you about it though.”

Well, that wasn’t unusual. “I’m glad it was okay, then.”

“Thanks.”

The call could have gone better, Steve thought, but it also wasn’t the worst.

**

Steve examined his clothes in the mirror. He had chosen them specially, earlier on, but were they any good? He couldn’t tell any more, he’d spent too much time thinking about how important all of it was.

The fact that Bucky had suggested a more upmarket restaurant to go to had really put all the more pressure on him to have dressed well. Not that Steve minded, but it would have helped to have the upper hand here.

His eye fell on the bag he could see reflected in the bottom of the mirror. The bag that held his other emergency suit was sat on the floor on the other side of the room, and he didn’t like the fact that he was going to have to leave it at home.

Still – right now, the most important thing was that he hid it away. He’d brought it home from work the other day for cleaning, and it had mostly sat around since then (mostly literally, on the floor). Bucky couldn’t be allowed to see any of it. Even if Steve did tell him about his secret identity, it certainly wouldn’t be on their first date.

And, since there was a very good chance that Bucky might come, he needed to make sure that there were no traces of the superhero life in sight.

Putting as much of it away as he could, he got his apartment reasonably tidy. If he could make a good impression tonight, he would be relatively happy.

The light began to get low. It was Steve’s sign that he needed to get going soon, or risk getting caught in commuter traffic.

He checked his phone once more. Bucky’s text from the other day was still there, telling him where they were meant to be meeting, along with Bucky’s specification that he wasn’t going to be able to travel to the restaurant with him. Steve had thought that it was strange that this was the case despite being neighbours, but he was happy to go along with it.

Making sure that he had his wallet with him, he set off. There was no sign of Bucky about – it made sense, and made Steve think that perhaps he had been busy doing something else this afternoon.

By the time he got outside, it was the evening. The streets were full of people, and he almost felt like one of the well dressed tourists that were milling about the place.

The restaurant wasn’t too far away – only 20 minutes’ walk or so, and Steve saw no reason to use any kind of other transport. It would be pleasant.

He was only a few blocks away from the restaurant when it happened.

A tremor filled the street. Steve froze – was this some sort of strange earthquake that they were having? A Natural disaster come to plague them?

Nobody else on the street seemed to know either. Immediately afterwards there was screaming, a discordant collection of many voices, clashing in just the right way to make Steve's ears hurt. Car alarms began to add to the cacophony - and all this before the real chaos hit.

Looking around, Steve tried to tell if there had been something that had caused this. This was difficult. So many people had begun to run in all directions that he could barely get a good look at the stores across the street, never mind anything more than that.

Then he heard it - the distinctive sounds of a monologue going on somewhere in the distance.

No. This had been caused by someone.

He could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket. He was so tempted to ignore it - but as he pulled it out, he saw that it was Natasha, and knew that he was obligated to answer.

"Hello," he answered tersely. Turning around, he began to jog in the direction he had come from.

"We need you," Natasha said, straight to the point. "It's - it's hydra. They're making their attempt at an infiltration here."

Steve gulped. "Right," he said, speeding up slightly. "I’ll be there soon."

The phone conversation ended quickly. That was fair - Steve could only assume that Natasha was rather busy right now, what with the fighting going on and everything.

Steve probably ended up running too fast for safety - but it was unlikely that people were actually noticing his speed right now. Like him, they were focussed on other, more important things. Like survival.

Skipping going out the front door at all, Steve practically flew up the fire escape and up into his apartment. It was as tidy as he had left it, but he tore that all apart to get to his superhero things, pulling off his suit. The important thing right now was that he get ready to go.

As he pulled the last of the Kevlar onto himself he remembered about Bucky.

Shit.

He looked at the clock in his room. The reservation had been for 15 minutes ago. His date would almost certainly be wondering where he had got to.

And Steve had entirely forgotten about him until this point.

Guilt kicking in, he picked up his phone. There were a few texts from Natasha, updates, but he ignored those for now. Pulling up his texts with Bucky, he typed out a quick, "sorry, something came up."

It was shorter than he would have liked. Explanations would have to wait til tomorrow, though. Besides - if Bucky didn't expect for this whole situation to mess with things a bit, then perhaps he wouldn't be worth dating after all.

Then, picking up his shield, he mentally prepared himself for going into battle again.

It was a good thing that he had his bike for times like these, though. He might not have wanted to use it earlier, but there was a pretty good reason for him to use it now.

With that on his side, it didn’t take him very long to get to the site of the disaster. The roads were surprisingly empty – at least, they were in the direction he was heading. The other direction was a bit busier – gridlocked, even. Clearly everyone was desperate to get away from the disaster area – and it only made Steve more sure that he was doing the right thing.

Driving faster, he was disappointed as he got closer to the epicentre – there were a surprising amount of other people making their way towards it, and knowing that civilians were going to be in the firing line made him worry more.

Stashing his bike a little way away from the site of the fight, Steve hoped that it would be there when he got back.

Then, for a moment, on the way, he checked his phone. It would be his last chance before the fight started. There was a message from Bucky. ‘Hey, sorry but I’m not going to be able to make it.’

Steve’s heart sank.

Even though he wasn’t going to make it either, he couldn’t help but feel rejected anyway.

Had none of this been happening, he might have allowed himself time to wallow.

But he had more important things going on right now. He pushed the thoughts about Bucky to the back of his mind. The world needed saving, and there was nothing he could do right now other than that.

There were slightly fewer people though, than there had been before - and that was good, Steve wanted for them to keep out of the way of the danger. That was the whole point of his job, of course.

But even as he reached the site of the disaster, it became clear that not everybody had got the memo. There were a ton of tourists about, their cameras out, gawking at his colleagues as they attempted to fight. It made for a worrying scene.

For once, most of them were there. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly what each of them was doing, but there were plenty of men dressed in black to fight.

Steve charged though the crowds. Fortunately fast enough to stop any of them from grasping onto him (that had happened before, and it hadn't been pretty). They parted like he was the knife and they the warm butter, and he was immediately confronted with several agents.

It made him realise that the man who had been abusing the Winter Soldier the other day must have been one of these. They were all dressed in the same way that he had been - and it made Steve all the more angry.

He downed a few of them quickly, focussing on getting the pawns out of the way. They fell easily, Steve fuelled by his willingness to protect those around him.

iron man flew over his head, the breeze cooling his face.

It didn't really mean much, he was on his way to get to some hydra agents who had been hassling some of their watchers - but it did draw Steve's attention to the centre of the mass of movement.

How he had missed what was going on there he didn't know.

There was another orc there, swinging a long and heavy club around at whoever he could reach. He was wearing some kind of crude armour - it didn't quite fit him, looking too large in some places and painfully tight in others.

Nevertheless, he was tall enough and burly enough to have his body protected well.

And the person whom he was trying to attack the most was the Winter Soldier.

Admittedly, the man was protecting himself pretty well. He was agile, and managed to fight him in the same way he had fought the last one, managing to duck and jab, and also to use his metal arm as a weapon in itself.

It was a pleasure to watch, really.

But despite the fact that he was managing to face down the beast, that didn't seem to be enough for hydra. Although many of their agents were engaged in fighting other avengers, there was enough of a surplus of them that they were targeting the Winter Soldier specifically.

It made Steve realise that this had likely been the intention of the attack all along.

And he couldn't let that continue. The Winter Soldier might not have been his favourite of the avengers, but he was still a teammate.

He jogged over there weaving around other fights as he did.

The orc looked bigger in person - bigger than the other one that they had fought, in fact. He wasn't exactly looking forward to having to fight another one - but he would, if it meant keeping people safe.

He began by hitting those who had their backs turned to him, like the fools they were. Three of them fell quickly and easily. After that, a few of them seemed to have noticed that they were fighting a battle on two fronts here, and in the confusion Steve managed to kill a couple more of them.

All this seemed to catch the Winter Soldier's attention.

"Leave me alone," he grunted as he ducked under the orc's swinging arm.

His hair swung in the motion, and his exposed metal arm glinted in the light of a hundred cellphone cameras. It made for a good look.

The moment that Steve realised what he was noticing, he felt bad. He had meant to be on a date with someone else right this very moment. Now was not the time to be thinking about other guys.

Pulling himself out of that train of thought, he said, "accept my help, you dick!"

The Winter Soldier seemed to mostly ignore that - and to be fair, at this point the orc had noticed Steve, and was lumbering in his direction.

For a minute both of them were very, very distracted with trying to get the thing to leave them alone, during which the Winter Soldier didn't say much. That was fair, to be honest.

Their best shot seemed to mostly be a tactic composed of trying to get the hydra agents to be the ones in its path - and it worked, surprisingly well.

"I don't need your help," the Soldier growled at him at lull in the fight. They were close enough together that Steve could see the sweat on the top half of his face, and the way that his eyes were narrowed at Steve himself.

"Of course you don't," Steve replied sarcastically. "I’ve been doing nothing for the past ten minutes, have I?"

"I could have _handled_ it," the Soldier insisted, becoming more and more agitated. “Just leave me alone.”

Steve was reminded of why he didn’t usually bother trying to help the Winter Soldier – it wasn’t like he left him alone for no reason.

So he said nothing more, instead focussing on the things that were trying to kill them. That was probably more important right now, to be fair.

And then, Steve watched as the orc’s meaty hand swung at them, he took a step back, but the Winter Soldier was just a smidge too close, and –

Steve stared at the domino mask lying on the ground. It had just flown across the battlefield – having been knocked off of the Winter Soldier by the orc.

All of Steve’s instincts told him to not look.

But the moment overwhelmed him – and he looked up at the Winter Soldier in shock.

Bucky’s face stared back at him.

Steve froze. His mind was playing tricks on him. He'd been thinking about the date he was missing out on that he was seeing things that weren't there.

He blinked. Nope. It was still Bucky’s face there.

The sounds of battle faded around them, the motion of the fighting an inconsequential blur. None of that mattered.

“Bucky?” Steve asked incredulously. The other shouldn’t have been able to hear him over the sounds of the battle – but Steve saw him react, saw him flinch.

Steve watched his face turn guilty for a nanosecond – and then it was replaced with practiced blankness. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Momentarily Steve was confused – before remembering that his mask was still on.

Without thinking it through at all, he reached up and pulled it up – not off, but off of his face. “Sorry I had to cancel on you?” He said sheepishly. He almost felt bad about calling Bucky’s bluff.

Bucky began to do an impression of a goldfish. That is to say, he went slightly orange and began to gape.

“Are you serious?” He whisper-yelled eventually. “How – what?”

Steve shrugged, and was about to answer, when he noticed the orc making its way towards them again. With that the sounds of the battle came rushing back to him, and he remembered that where they were wasn’t exactly the most epiphany-friendly place.

He pulled his mask back down. Upon seeing him do that, Bucky – _the Winter Soldier_ – reached down and picked up his mask off the floor. He shot him an apologetic smile, one that was 100% Bucky. And then the mask was on him, and the immediate transformation that it made was incredible. Now that he knew who the man behind the mask was, it was very easy to see Bucky in him, but still. Steve had been so used to thinking of them as separate people that it almost didn’t make sense in his brain.

It was by practice alone that Steve was able to push all of that out of his mind for the moment.

He was able to get that focus that allowed him to fight well more easily than he had before – perhaps it was the knowledge that he wasn’t letting Bucky down by not being able to turn up to their meeting, or maybe it was just that he liked feeling more camaraderie with _knowing_ more of his teammates.

Even having the other members of the team that he still didn’t know personally around felt a little less awkward. Even though Natasha had presumably called in more backups – there was usually only one flying superhero in the city, and right now there were two – he couldn’t help but feel like all of them were a succinct team, all working towards the same goal.

And the thing about being united like that was that it was almost impossible for them to lose.

Steve almost felt bad as he looked around at the devastation they had caused. It was something that the public mostly liked to pretend wasn’t the case, but still – they had just had to kill a bunch of people, even if they were Nazis.

Well, it wasn’t their job to clean up their own messes. Mostly because the government would use it as an excuse to get at their identities, and none of them wanted that. So they had an agreement with the government that they could take care of it all so long as the heroes didn’t interfere too much. It wasn’t perhaps the most efficient (or morally good) plan, but it has its benefits.

It did mean that they had to scram as soon as possible, though. ideally before the clean-up team turned up.

Steve looked around for Bucky. He was all the way over by the fallen orc, examining its armour. Who was closer to him, though, was Natasha. That traitor.

He wandered closer to her. “So you didn’t think to tell me?” He said quietly.

Natasha looked at him – and for once she didn’t feign innocence. “It wasn’t my story to tell,” she said simply.

Damn, she had a point there.

He still glared at her though. “You couldn’t have even given me a heads up?” He asked, feeling like he was coming up against a brick wall between him and the information that he wanted.

She shrugged. “Not really.” Turning momentarily, she bent down and picked something up off a body on the floor, putting whatever it was in her pocket. (Steve didn’t question it – there was always some kind of method to Natasha’s madness, and it was likely that explanations would be about as forthcoming as they were for everything else.)

“How long have you known, then?” He asked, still trying to get information out of her.

She looked at him sharply. “For a while.”

He nodded. It didn’t sound like Natasha wanted to talk about it – clearly there was no point in pushing the issue. Even if he was super curious about how she knew in the first place, he could tell what there were going to be no answers coming from her.

The solution would be to ask Bucky himself.

Steve glanced over at where Bucky was. He was still examining the orc – something which Steve had very little interest in. He’d spent enough time fighting the damn things, he didn’t need to bother about them after the fight too.

Well, he could wait.

“So – are you okay? They didn’t hit you?” Changing the topic was always a great idea, it definitely always worked in getting Natasha to talk to him.

Natasha’s response was cagey as usual. “Don’t worry about me.”

Steve didn’t bother to point out the fact that he would do that anyway, no matter what she said. “Well I think one of them scratched me,” he said holding out an arm so that she could see. Sure enough, there was a tear in his uniform sleeve. He also didn’t bother to point out that both of them could see that the scratch underneath had already healed.

Natasha patted his arm. “I’m not going to kiss it better, you big baby.”

Steve pouted – and promptly remembered that they weren’t alone. Iron man landed next to them. If Steve had been able to see the man behind the mask, he was pretty sure he would have been giving them a weird look.

“I’m going to take off,” he said, voice sounding even more mechanical out here in the real world. “Can you guys sort out what needs to be handled?”

It was almost like iron man had almost no idea what went on after a fight because he never stuck around. Still, the two of them nodded. “Sure, iron man.” Natasha’s voice was impressively calm.

With that, he left, making an obnoxiously loud noise with his blasters as he did (Steve was pretty sure that the main reason for this was to make all the people in the crowd watching gasp). Steve could also see the hulk and spider man ~~fleeing~~ leaving the scene too – and it was beginning to look like it was about time for them to do the same. With fewer heroes around, it only concentrated more pressure on them.

“Na-Black Widow, do you want to get out of here?” Steve asked, beginning to side eye the growing crowds. There were always more people around after it had all finished – something about the actual danger being gone made people flock to the scene of things like this. It made it even more imperative that they stick to codenames only, in case any of them were paying attention to what they were saying, which was very likely.

Natasha, still facing away from him, began to speak, but her words were drowned out by the sound of more blasters. Momentarily Steve thought that iron man must have returned – but when he looked properly, he realised it had been the other flying guy, the one that Steve hadn’t recognised.

“Hey Nat,” the guy said. “How’s it going?”

Steve boggled at him.

Natasha didn’t seem half as bothered as he did. “Hey Sam, I’m glad you could make it. How was the flight over?”

Sam laughed. “Well I didn’t fly myself over, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Steve cleared his throat, feeling a little like he was missing a lot in this conversation. Did he say a little? he meant a lot.

Natasha turned to him. “Right - Sam, this is Captain America. Cap, this is Sam – I don’t think he’s chosen a codename yet?”

Steve appreciated that Nat hadn’t used his real name – and still found it strange that the two of them were seeming so blasé about doing it to each other.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, holding out a hand for Sam to shake. Even once he realised just how dirty the glove on his suit was, Sam still shook it – a fair thing, since they were all pretty worn out and gross from the fight.

“You too,” Sam said. There wasn’t a trace of hero-worship in his expression – something very pleasing. Of course, the man was clearly already friends with Natasha, so he may well have been used to hanging around with heroes – but it hadn’t stopped other new heroes, like Spiderman, from getting a little star struck (which was always the most embarrassing thing).

“I am glad you could make it, though,” Natasha said, slightly lower this time. “I know it was very last minute, but I didn’t know that this was going to be happening until an hour before it did –“

Sam shook his head. “Look, it’s okay, I get it. Besides, getting more exposure can only help, right?”

Nat did one of her wry smiles.

Steve found himself tuning out their conversation about the benefits of exposure in the superhero’s life, and thought about the battle they’d just had instead. Could it have been avoided if they’d been quicker getting at hydra? Should they have been more on guard after hydra’s attack on the w – on Bucky?

Almost before he had time to take it in, Bucky was done with his examination of the body.

As Bucky walked over, Steve remembered that there were other things going on here that were important. He said nothing, mask very much still in place. It brought back into perspective the fact that some people were even more adamant that identities had to stay secret.

But Steve watched Natasha look between him and Bucky, and even though her expression didn’t change, he could see the way that she was putting things together in her mind. “We’ll leave the two of you alone,” she said, touching Sam’s arm

Despite Sam looking rather like he’d rather stay and watch whatever was going to go down, he followed Natasha off to the other side of the battlefield. Knowing that they were probably about to leave themselves, Steve prepared himself to do the same.

Now that they were alone, Bucky seemed much less worried about talking. “So,” Bucky began. “What now?”

Steve made a snap decision. “Well we’re both heading the same way,” he said. “Want to come with?”

Bucky blinked at him. He brushed his hair back from around his mask. It almost looked like a nervous habit – although if this was nerve wracking compared to what they’d just done, Steve would be very surprised.

Then he shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

The reporters were beginning to congregate, and if they didn’t disappear soon they’d get roped into answering questions they really didn’t want to answer.

(And after that would come the public, and they were even worse than the reporters for trying to find where they lived.)

Steve was extremely thankful that he had thought to ride here on his motorcycle. (Although slightly surprised that none of the crowds had tried to steal it. That had happened before, and it never ended well.)

“This is my ride,” Steve said awkwardly. He looked at Bucky. It was so hard to tell what that guy was thinking. “Do you – do you wanna join me?”

Bucky stared at him. Was that meant to be a yes or a no?

Hesitantly, Steve reached over, and retrieved his spare helmet. He proffered it to Bucky, a gesture of good faith.

Bucky only stared more, like he was disgusted that Steve would assume he needed it. “No to the helmet,” Steve muttered himself as he put it back. To be fair there was very little he knew about the Winter Soldier. There was no way of knowing how invulnerable he was, even if he was technically a superhero.

Steve got on the bike, and waited for Bucky to get on too.

It was… an experience. He had had many others ride with him before, but never had he ridden with Bucky before. Or with a crush.

Having Bucky plastered to his back for fifteen minutes was something which Steve had never thought that he would do. Still, he did his best to ignore the feeling of Bucky’s sturdy arms wrapped around him, his solid form pressed up against Steve.

And they technically hadn’t even had a first date yet.

By the time they reached Steve’s – their – apartment building, Steve was about ready to unstick the two of them himself. The moment they got to the building Bucky clambered off, and Steve wondered how much Bucky was feeling the same as him.

It was a depressing thought.

They didn’t talk as they made their way up the fire escape, Steve motioning for Bucky to join him. To his surprise, Bucky navigated the mass of metal better than he did – and it was at that moment that Steve realised that Bucky had probably used that fire escape just as many times as him. because his neighbour was the Winter Soldier. Damnit, that still hadn’t sunk in.

Then it came to the part where they had to climb in through Steve’s window, and that wasn’t dignified for either of them (even with enhanced flexibility it was still an awkward thing to have to do).

When both of them were in, treading dirt into Steve’s floor, things took a turn for the awkward.

“Do you want to stay?” Steve asked, as he pulled his helmet off. It was a relief to be back in his apartment after such a stressful time, and he wanted to relax accordingly.

Bucky didn’t look half as relaxed. His mask remained on his face, and there was almost nothing about him that suggested that he wanted to stay right now.

Then Bucky took off his mask. With that removed, he looked much less imposing – much more like the man Steve had found himself having feelings for. It also made it so much more obvious where the mask had been – his uncovered upper face was much dirtier than his lower face, and Steve almost wanted to laugh at it. He liked it though – it humanised Bucky, made Steve remember that he was more than the Winter Soldier.

Steve was expecting for Bucky to say yes – and was on the verge of reaching out to fix Bucky’s hair, which seemed to have turned into a mini jungle while they were on the bike.

“I’ll be back soon,” Bucky said abruptly.

With that, he walked out of the apartment, needing no direction to be given.. Steve hoped that this meant properly soon. If Bucky didn’t mean it, then it would be depressingly awkward when they next saw each other.

With Bucky gone, Steve suddenly felt very alone. There was something about going from a crowded, noisy battlefield to being in a very quiet, very still place that was unsettling.

Still, he knew he should take advantage of the time to himself, and rid himself of the grime that had built up over the past hour. He walked carefully though to the bathroom, doing his best to not touch anything where possible. Even though it hadn’t been that long, he could feel the dirt settling into his skin, making everything feel so much grosser than it needed to. Even with his skin-tight suit on, he just knew that there would be some that had inexplicably made its way under the seal and to his skin.

Once he was in the bathroom, he stripped off. It was usually easier to take the suit off than it was to put it on, but on some days (like today, apparently) where nothing wanted to cooperate, and he was left with one pant leg that wanted to stay glued to his skin.

Eventually though he got it all off. Before he got into the shower, he took a moment to examine himself in the mirror. There was a light covering of dirt in the pattern of his helmet on his face – something entirely normal for these sorts of things. There was a certain irony in the fact that he and Bucky had looked so similar in that situation.

It was very relieving to be able to wash it all off.

Just as Steve was putting away the last of his things after finishing showering, there was a knock at the door. His heart leapt – it was Bucky, it had to be.

He had to force himself to walk to the door at a normal speed. He didn’t want to seem too eager, after all.

As he opened the door, a thought popped into his head. What if this was it? Now that they knew what the other got up to in their spare time, what if Bucky wanted nothing more to do with him? They hadn’t exactly been friendly, before.

Even as those thoughts were whirling around Steve’s brain like particularly irritating flies, the sight of Bucky there made Steve feel better.

He looked…. more himself. That was to say, that he didn’t look like the Winter Soldier any more. It was very clear that he’d taken a shower too – his face was clear of the dirt that had been on it before, and his hair was wet. There was also the fact that his clothes were so much more ‘Bucky’ than his Winter Soldier clothes were – the addition of a hoodie and jeans really made him look so much more approachable

“Hey,” Bucky said, shuffling his feet. He then shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Do – do you want to come in?” Steve said, standing to the side and gesturing at his apartment.

Bucky bit his lip. He didn’t move. Steve’s heart began to race – was this it? Bucky come to tell him that this was over before it had even begun?

Then, quickly, as though he was trying to hide the fact that he’d just stood there awkwardly for a minute, Bucky slipped past Steve and into the apartment.

Steve closed the door with a heavy heart.

“So – how are you feeling?” Steve asked, following Bucky to the couch.

Bucky looked up at him – and, for a moment, Steve forgot that Bucky was also the Winter Soldier. “I’m not too bad,” he said. Then he rolled up his left sleeve. “I got hit about a bit on my arm though. It’s been a bit funny this whole time; I think I’m going to need to go get it tuned up soon.” He pointed out several small dents and scratches in the metal.

Steve stared at the bare metal. This had been the closest he had been to it, in the whole time they had known each other, and he couldn’t help but be sort of captivated by it.

“You can touch it.”

Steve looked up at Bucky guiltily. He half expected to see Bucky looking irritated about it – he must have had so many people stare at it that he must hate it. Instead, he looked entirely calm, and Steve found himself concerned that maybe he wouldn’t be able to keep calm himself.

But, since Bucky had offered it, he touched the arm. He… didn’t know what he had expected it to feel like – more like a ‘real’ arm, perhaps. Instead, it just felt like metal. Smooth metal, room temperature, and entirely un-fleshlike. Probably what he should have expected it to be like.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, drawing his hand away. It had been an experience, but it still felt too intimate, somehow. In a way that was different from how touching an arm would normally be.

Bucky nodded.

“So – how long have you been Captain America?” Bucky asked.

Steve blinked. That was a bit out of nowhere – he wasn’t about to complain about it, but he was so caught off guard that he actually had to think about the answer for a moment. “uh – for about five years in total?” he said, trying to mentally do the math without trying to look like that was what he was doing.

“Right,” Bucky said, “so you’ve always been cap? There hasn’t been anyone else?”

Serve frowned. “I – no? Is that a thing that happens? No, I just started doing this thing and then it turned into a bigger thing, and then suddenly there were a lot more superheroes around.”

“Right, right,” Bucky said, nodding to himself. “so it hasn’t been that long for you?”

“Uh –“ Steve had to very quickly try to do some mental math to try to figure out how long it had actually been that he’d been doing this thing. “It’s – it’s ben about five years, I think? But it’s not been that long since we started the avengers.”

Bucky nodded. “That makes sense.”

“What… what about you?” Steve was very hesitant to ask, but he didn’t think he could resist the curiosity any longer. Especially when Bucky’s alter ego was so different from how he was normally.

Bucky seemed to freeze.

It was then that some of the research that Steve had done back when he was first curious about the Winter Soldier came back to him. How he had managed to forget about all of the shit that it said the Winter Soldier had done back in Washington? It had been so weird to read about the guy that he was fighting alongside – and was even stranger was having to reconcile that harshness with Bucky’s upset-looking, cute face.

“I –“ Steve scrambled to think of what to say in face of Bucky’s reaction. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me. That’s okay – it’s not all that important.”

Bucky bit his lip – and shook his head. “No,” he said, “it’s okay. Um – it’s been too long for me to really tell you how long it’s been. I don’t actually know, really.”

“You – you don’t know?” Steve asked. The more he learned about Bucky’s past, the more he thought that actually he probably should know as little as possible – for the sake of the people he used to work for, if nothing else.

That idea only increased when Bucky replied, “well no – it’s a bit more complicated than your story, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever get the full story myself.” He didn’t look entirely comfortable – his eyes stayed staring downwards.

It was amazing how a change of clothes could so fully make the change from the Winter Soldier to Bucky. Steve couldn’t imagine the man he’d sort of known in the Winter Soldier behaving this way – and Steve wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

If he had just been talking to Bucky, he wouldn’t have pushed any more.

But he was talking to the Winter Soldier, too. And he thought he could maybe try a little bit more, get more info out of him.

“Really? Why?”

For a second, Steve thought that Bucky wasn’t going to answer him. Maybe he’d crossed the line, picked the wrong time to assume that he wasn’t talking to the Winter Soldier right now. But then he spoke anyway. “It’s… it’s not a fun story. I didn’t want to start doing any of this, but in terms of being a hero rather than a pawn… no, that’s not been half as long as the total of my time being the Winter Soldier.”

Not that that made Steve feel any better about it. “…This has something to do with dc, doesn’t it?” he asked gently. He was still partially worried that he might go too far and make Bucky uncomfortable.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I – I haven’t always been under my own power.” If Steve hadn’t known better he might have thought that Bucky sounded embarrassed about it.

“Shit… really?” Honestly Steve couldn’t imagine being like that – he was probably lucky that he’d never had to deal with anything like that in all his years of doing this.

“Yeah… I – It sounds like you’ve really looked into my background, huh?” Bucky sounded only a little bitter about it.

Immediately, Steve felt bad. This was what he’d been trying to avoid this whole time – making Bucky feel bad about any of this. It couldn’t be allowed to be.

Steve began to backtrack. “Oh – I…. I just wanted to know more about the – well, about you when you were just more of a teammate. I couldn’t get an idea of what you were like, so I thought that was the best idea at the time. Um… I’m sorry? I couldn’t actually find that much out about it – it’s not like the news knows all that much about any of our private lives, and I don’t think you’re all that different.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But… you know enough about my past?” Bucky started to look nervous.

Steve was entirely unsure about the answer to this. “I – I don’t know. I don’t think I know enough to be able to make that judgement.” It probably wasn’t the response that Bucky wanted, but it was either that or lie.

“Well, I suppose that’s fair enough. It’s not like you, as someone hoping to be a hero, really want to talk about the time you got kidnapped and brainwashed and forced to kill for a government organisation.” The whole time Bucky was speaking, he looked between the floor and the coffee table – not once did he meet Steve’s eyes. It sort of made Steve feel like Bucky was mad at him, which wasn’t a good sign.

“I mean, that’s true… would you be open to talking about it at all?”

The amount of conflict Steve felt about asking that seemed like it just about matched how conflicted Bucky looked after being asked that.

“For now all I’ll tell you is that it took far too long for me to get away. I might be able to tell you one day, but probably not right now.”

“Of course, no pressure.”

They sit silently for a minute. It doesn’t feel too awkward, weirdly, and Steve found himself enjoying Bucky’s company. After a while, Bucky shuffled closer – and Steve was more than happy to have him there.

But there were still questions that Steve wanted to know the answers to.

“So how exactly do you know Nat?” Steve asked, unable to keep his curiosity in any longer.

Bucky frowned – an unusual reaction. “Well, it has a lot to do with the reason I’m here and not in dc,” he said.

Right, Steve had forgotten about all that. the research he’d done felt like it was from a million years ago – how much of it had he actually retained?

What with talking about his own superhero journey, he’d sort of forgotten that Bucky had his own – and that it almost certainly had not been as easy as his own.

“I actually met her not too long before I joined the avengers,” Bucky began. “It was more of a meeting of chance, and I’m still not entirely sure why or how she decided that I was worth taking under her wing.”

“Really? How come?” Steve asked. The moment he said it, more details from that article that he read came to mind. How the Winter Soldier had originally been a cryptid in dc, where he had operated in such a way that made it impossible for anyone to tell his motivations. Almost like he wasn’t making the decisions for himself.

Bucky shot him an unimpressed look at the same time. “Did you not notice the massive bust up we were just at?” He asked. “That was mostly over me. I mean, hydra weren’t exactly happy about Nat helping me to bust out of there, instead of having us fight to the death.”

“Wait, to the death?” Steve asked, feeling more and more lost as time went on. He couldn’t remember Natasha having even taken a trip to dc at any point in the last year, so he couldn’t pinpoint when Bucky could possibly be talking about.

Bucky shrugged. “Well, yeah. They sent me to kill her – I mean, you guys are all pretty high profile now, and I guess she got in the way of something - she was fully prepared to go through with it, only then she didn’t fight back.”

“Okay, but why?”

“I don’t even know,” Bucky said with a wry smile. “I keep asking her, but every time she just changes the topic. It’s infuriating, but you know Nat – she won’t give away anything unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

At least that was something Steve could agree with.

“Well remind me the next time I see her to thank her.”

Then Steve noticed Bucky beginning to look anxious. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done before, but… now it seemed more so.

But he didn’t have it in him to push it, and so he waited it out – and while they did, he let them chatter about how annoying Nat was, just for the fun of it.

“Where do we stand?”

Bucky began to move his fingers around, fiddling with his own hands, like he was trying to distract himself from the conversation at hand.

Steve blinked. That was what Bucky had been worried about?

He almost felt bad being surprised about that – mostly because Bucky genuinely seemed to be worried about it. With all that had gone on today, their failed date was the thing that he cared about.

Steve reached out, and put his hand on top of Bucky’s. “We’re good,” he said. “Don’t worry. We can take it slowly.”

“Are you sure? You don’t… you’ve not changed your mind?”

Despite the things they’d been talking about, Bucky looked… well, more like Bucky than he did the Winter Soldier. Vulnerable.

Steve shook his head slowly. “No. No, I haven’t.”

Perhaps if it had been anyone else, Steve’s answer might have been different. But this was Bucky – the man he’d been intrigued by for months now. And for him? Well, Steve would put up with a lot.

**

“So did the fight count as our first date?”

“Shut up.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lackluster epilogue

Steve walked into the room. He’d been running late for a while now, but he’d only just had it settle in that he should probably have got here faster.

“Hey guys,” he said, taking in the fact that everyone else was already here, and had clearly started without him.

“What’s with you being late, Cap?” Iron Man asked. He sounded entirely too casual.

“I just… had stuff to do,” Steve said, taking his seat.

The rest of the table stared at him.

“So what were we talking about?” Steve asked.

“There has been a string of burglaries in a known mob controlled neighbourhood,” Natasha said. “We’re debating whether to –“

“It’s so unprofessional to turn up so late,” the Winter Soldier interrupted him.

Steve blinked. “I’m sorry? I –“

“You should have been here sooner.” The Winter Soldier’s voice was as dark as it was whenever they were out in the field, like he was genuinely mad that Steve had turned up ten minutes late to the meeting.

“Jeez – you know that iron man is late by an hour half the time? And there are plenty of people not here at all?” Steve said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

The Winter Soldier shrugged. “That doesn’t matter – you’re the leader, and –“

“Well now, I think that’s debatable,” Iron Man interjected. “Also aren’t there more important things to consider here? We’re not here to listen to the two of you squabble like children.”

Both of them turned to glare at Iron Man.

It didn’t shut the man up – but it did make him change the topic.

The rest of the meeting went on as usual. There was a lot of discussion of things to do – a lot of which regarded the growing hydra problem – but not actually a whole lot of decisions. They didn’t really need to make them for sure just yet – but the time when they would need to was coming soon. There was only so long that they could allow it to fester – but planning an attack was difficult, and required more planning than some of them were willing to give.

Eventually, the meeting came to a close. Members trailed out of the room as it got later and later, and there was less and less to discuss.

When Nat left, she gave the two of them a knowing look.

When Quicksilver left, he seemed almost scared of the tension between him and the Winter Soldier.

And then it was just him and Bucky left in the room.

If Steve didn’t pay enough attention, it was easy enough to forget about the man behind the mask. Still – it didn’t take very long for Steve to remind himself that it was his boyfriend hiding behind there. And that they were just playing their parts, the ones that their situation forced upon them.

They gravitated together in the empty room. How they needed to after having spent only a couple of hours apart Steve didn’t know, but he wasn’t complaining. Maybe if they ever revealed their identities to each other within the avengers then maybe they’d tell them about their relationship – but for now they had to keep it a secret.

“You know you only pull more attention to us when you pick fights with me, right?”

“You know you love it.”


End file.
